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Entered  according  to  Act  or  Congress,  in  the  year  1875,  by 

W.   C.   GANNETT, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


Cambridge  : 
Press  of  John  Wilson  6^  Son, 


TO 

K.  B.  T., 


MY 


O  T  H  E  R  -  A  U  X  T. 


This  book  has  been  written  chiefly  for  old  friends 
who  loved  Dr.  Gannett.  He  would  have  entreated 
that  it  be  not  written,  —  that  was  his  temper  ever. 
The  colors  of  the  picture  are  largely  his  own  as 
he  left  them  in  yearnings  and  confessions ;  but 
those  old  friends  will  make  the  colors  brighter 
from  their  memories,  —  and  I  would  that  other 
readers  might  bear  that  in  mind.  It  is  a  minis- 
ter's story,  with  little  unique,  nothing  eventful,  in 
it.  There  was  but  little  even  of  that  biograph- 
ical material  which  undramatic  workmen  have 
often  left  behind  them;  for  he  put  but  little  of 
himself  into  letters  or  journals,  and  his  talk  ran 
seldom  on  by-gone  days  and  deeds.  In  more  than 
one  sense  he  forgot  himself.  The  seventeen  hun- 
dred sermons  that  kept  the  tally  of  the  earnest 
weeks,  and  the  nameless  acts  and  words  that  filled 
the  days  with  kindness,  —  Ezra,  "  Helper,"  was  his 
name,  —  these  were  his  forms  of  self-expression. 
Such  expression  passed  into  other  lives  more  easily 
than  it  now  can  pass  into  his  own  memoir.  But, 
because  the  sermons  were  simply  himself  written 
out,  they  in  a  measure  supply  this  autobiograph- 


vi  PREFACE, 

ical  element.  For  that  reason  a  few  have  been 
added  at  the  end,  less  to  show  the  preacher  than 
the  man.  They  are  an  essential  part  of  the  "  Life/* 
as  is  explained  at  greater  length  in  the  pages  that 
introduce  them. 

Beyond  his  home  and  parish  he  so  closely  iden- 
tified his  interests  with  those  of  his  denomination, 
that  an  account  of  the  Unitarianism  of  New  Eng- 
land makes  the  natural  background  throughout 
the  story;  but  the  sketch  of  its  rise  and  growth 
and  several  phases  has  been  purposely  filled  in 
with  more  detail  than  was  strictly  needed  for  that 
purpose.  It  may  be  welcomed  by  some  readers, 
while  others  can  easily  skip  Chapters  III.  and  YII., 
and  certain  pages  in  Chapters  Y.  and  X.  It  is 
mainly  a  chronicle  of  facts.  What  little  criticism 
there  is  upon  the  facts  will  probably  be  assented 
to  by  neither  "  side  "  as  wholly  truthful,  which 
makes  the  hope  not  less  strong  that  it  may  be 
truthful.  Yet,  as  the  impression  is  not  in  all 
respects  that  which  Dr.  Gannett  would  himself 
convey,  I  would  call  attention  to  his  own  state- 
ments on  pages  128  and  222,  and  what  follows  in 
each  place. 

The  portrait  engraved  by  Mr.  J.  A.  J.  Wilcox 
is  slightly  altered  from  a  crayon  drawn  by  Rowse, 
in  I8G0.     The  wood-cuts  have  been  done  by  Mr. 

8.   S.   KiLBURN. 


PREFACE.  VU 

Several  friends  will  see  that  tliey  have  helped 
to  write  the  book.  One  chapter  is  altogether  a 
service  of  their  love  ;  and,  so  far  as  a  son  may  thank 
them  for  such  loving  help,  I  would  most  gratefully 
acknowledge  it. 

W.  C.  GANNETT. 

Boston,  January,  1875. 


I  WOULD  like  to  make  another  acknowledgment 
of  aid,  although  to  make  it  may  seem  to  exag- 
gerate the  importance  of  one  part  of  the  book: 
the  materials  for  the  sketch  of  Unitarianism  were 
chiefly  gathered  from  sermons,  reports,  biogra- 
phies, and  from  the  old  magazines  and  controver- 
sial volumes  mentioned  in  the  text ;  but  much 
aid  has  also  been  drawn  from  w^riters  who  have 
before  described  the  same  "  flow  of  faith."  Among 
works  in  regard  to  the  earlier  phases  of  the  move- 
ment, I  would  specially  refer  to  a  series  of  letters, 
hostile,  but  full  of  facts,  on  the  "  Introduction  and 
Progress  of  Unitarianism  in  New  England,"  in  the 
"  Spirit  of  the  Pilgrims,"  vols,  ii.-iv.,  1829-1831 ; 
to  a  pamphlet,  fair  and  thorough,  while  uns^Tn- 
pathetic,  by  Bishop  Burgess  of  Maine,  called 
"Pages  from  the  Ecclesiastical  History  of  New 
England,"  1740-1840 ;  and  to  a  long,  fair  article 


VUl  PREFACE. 

by  Professor  E.  H.  Gillett,  in  the  "  Historical 
Magazine"  for  April,  1871,  on  the  "History  and 
Literature  of  the  Unitarian  Controversy,"  —  a 
compilation  helpful  by  its  abundant  quotations 
and  a  large,  though  incomplete,  bibliography ;  also 
to  Sprague's  "  Annals "  of  the  Unitarian  Pulpit, 
Eev.  Dr.  J.  S.  Clark's  "  Sketch  of  the  Congrega- 
tional Churches  in  Massachusetts,"  and  Eev.  Dr. 
George  E.  Ellis's  "  Half-Century  of  the  Unitarian 
Controversy." 

The  later  "  Transcendental "  phase  has  been 
described  by  John  Weiss  and  0.  B.  Frothingham 
in  their  Lives  of  Theodore  Parker,  and  part  of  it 
lies  reflected  in  Margaret  Fuller's  Memoirs.  Such 
accounts  were  freely  used ;  and  here  again  there 
were  'the  pamphlets  of  a  controversy,  and  the 
Unitarian  magazines  and  reports,  to  quarry  in. 
But  the  history  of  those  "  Transcendental "  years 
of  Boston  life  has  never  been  written  out  as  it 
should  be.  There  still  live  elders  who  were  them- 
selves a  large  part  of  that  stirring  time  :  may  not 
we,  born  out  of  due  time,  hope  to  thank  one  of 
them  some  day  for  the  full,  true  story? 


W.  C.  G. 

Febhuary,  1875. 


CONTENTS. 


THE  HOME  AND   THE  BOY,   1801-1816. 


PAGE 

The  Puritan  home 9 

Caleb  Gannett 10 

Ruth  Stiles 11 

Her  religiousness :    the  birth- 
psalm  12 

Neighbors 14 

Parent-moulds 14 

The  mother's  touch    ....  15 


Waiting  for  death 

Lexington  and  Andover  .  .  . 
Westminster  Catechism  .  .  . 
Towards  college  :  plays  by  the 

way 

Sermon-abstracts 

Dr.  Hedge's  schoolmate  .    .    » 


PAGB 

.     16 

.     17 

,     18 


19 
20 
21 


II. 


SEEKING  AND  FINDING,   1816-1820. 


Enters  college 22 

The  father's  death 23 

Frightened  and  frightening  .     .  23 

"  Wiiy  am  I  discontented  ?  "    .  24 

The  two  selves 25 

College  good-times     ....  26 


Honors :  sermon-shadows    .     .  27 

Misgivings  and  the  aunt ...  27 

The  tour 28 

Enters  Divinity  School    ...  29 
"  Theses  Theologicae  "  at  Com- 
mencement    30 


III. 


THE  RISE   OF  UNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND. 

From  Calvinism  to  Arminianism,  1620-1740. 

Puritan  Calvinism 32  I  The  Great  Awakening,  1740    .     34 

Its  decay 34  I  The  Arminians 35 


CONTENTS. 


From  Arminianism  to  Unitarianism,  1740-1815. 


The  Ilopkinsian  Calvinists  .  . 
The  two  Liberal  emphases  .  . 
Liberal  leaders  and  sii?ns  .  . 
James    Freeman    and    King's 

Chapel,  1787 

Heresy  in  1800 : 

Vague  Liberals 

Sharp  Free-thinkers     .     .     . 

Open  Universalists  .     .     .     . 

Bible  Christians 

Orthodoxy  :  Moderate  and  Old 
Calvinists 


PAGE 

36 
37 
37 


Harvard     College  :     Professor 
Ware,  1805 

Antholorjij  Club  and  Magazine   . 

Norton's  General  Repositon/  .     . 

Noah  Worcester's  Christian  Dis- 
ciple      

Other  Liberal  signs     .... 

Orthodox  muster :  Dr.  Morse  . 

The  silent  brotherhood  of  Lib- 
erals     

The  crisis,  1815  :  "  Unitarian- 
ism " 


The  Unitarian  Controversy,  1815-1833. 


Channing  vs.  Samuel  AYorces- 

ter 53 

The  schism  necessary      ...  51 
Channing's  Baltimore  sermon, 

1819 55 

Berry-Street  Conference      .     .  56 

Stuart  vs.  Norton 57 


Woods  vs.  Ware      .     . 
Unitarianism  defined  . 
Its  following  .... 
Church-breaks   and    the 
ham  decision,  1820  , 
Unitarians  organizing . 


Ded- 


44 
45 
46 

47 
48 
48 

50 

32 


57 
58 
59 

60 
61 


lY. 


THE   GIRDING,   1821-1824. 


Divinity  School 62 

"  Professors  Ware  and  Norton  **  63 

First  sermons 65 

"  Unitarian  piety  " 66 

"Joining  the  church"     ...  67 
"Jesus  Christ  a  perfect  exam- 
ple?"   67 

"Approbation" 68 


"  Engagement  with  Df .  Chan- 
ning "      69 

"  Preached  for  the  first  time  " .  70 

Coming  events 71 

Call  to  Federal  Street      ...  72 

By  Dr.  Channing's  side  !      .     .  73 

Ordination 74 

"  To  die  and  live  with  you  "    .  76 


V. 

MORNING  WORK,   WITHOUT  AND   WITHIN:  ESTAB- 
LISHING THE  FAITH,   1824-1836. 


Without:  Parish  Work  and  Problems. 

One  thing  I  do        78 

Parish  calls 79 

Vestry  meetings  ....     81 


Bible  class 82 

Sunday  school 82 

Sermons  :  "  The  fire  points  "  .    84 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


PAGE 

Faitli :  reason  :  revelation      .  85 

Religious  feeling 87 

"  Thinking  too  mildly  of  God  "  88 

"  Fellowship  with  the  Father  "  89 

Sober  style,  fervent  utterance  89 

The  extempore  struggle  ...  91 

Cheerers 92 


PAGE 

The  two  colleagues    ....  93 
The  people's  rights    ....  95 
"  Churcli  covenants  "...  95 
Calls   to  New  York,  —  to  the 
American   Unitarian  As- 
sociation      96 


Unitarian  History  [continued). 


"  Boston  Association  of  Minis- 
ters "  in  1824 97 

The  Fathers  of  Unitarianism  .  100 
Reluctance  to  organize  .     .     .  101 
American   Unitarian  Associa- 
tion, 1825 102 

**  Motive  of  the  founders  "     .  102 

Meagre  welcome  .     .    ,    .     ►  103 

Organization  goes  on    .    .     .  104 


Cheek :  three  causes  .  . 
Unitarianism  too  rational 
Calvinism  improving.  . 
Orthodox      zeal  :      Lyman 

Beecher      

Controversy  at  its  height   . 
It  subsides  :  Church  and  State 

separated,  1833  .     .     . 
Tlie  Universalists      .     .     . 


Establishing  the  Faith. 


First  Secretary  of  the  A.  U.  A .  1 1 2 

Channing's  tract 112 

On  the  Register 113 

As  controversialist     ....  114 
"  Name   '  Unitarian    Chris- 
tianity '  "  116 

■'  Religious  controversy  "    .  117 
*' Unitarian  rights "    .     .     .  118 
**  The      Unitarian     contro- 
versy " 118 

"The  Unitarian  belief"     .  120 


"  It  converts  sinners  "  . 
"  No  '  half-way  house '  " 
"  Not  negative  "... 
"  Early      charges      consid 

ered  " 

Edits  Scriptural.  Interpreter . 
Benevolent      Fraternity       of 
Churches,    1834.     .     . 


Thorough  peace-man     .     . 
"  Slavery  our  greatest  evil  " 


105 

105 
106 

107 

108 

110 
111 


123 
124 
12S 

128 
135 

136 

139 
139 


Outside,  busy  bright  days  .     .  141 

Inside,  self-distrust  and  gloom  142 

"  What  shall  I  do  ?  "     .     .     .  144 

Kent's  answer 144 

Dr.  Channing's  advice  .     .     .  146 

Hei:rv  Ware's  warnings     .     .  149 


Within :    Struggle. 

An  uplifting 151 

"  Sunrise  on  Lake  George  "  .  151 

Marriage 1-54 

Breaks  down 154 

Exile 155 


Y\. 


REST  IN  EUROPE,   1836-1838.. 


Lonely  voyage . 
A  preacher's  tour 
"  Dr.  Boott "    .    . 


157 
159 
159 


Home  letters 100 

"  M.  Coquerel,  peire"    .     .     .     162 
"My  own  Anna" 164 


xu 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Our  fault  at  Verona".     .     .     165 
Unitarianism  as   a  National 

Church  " 166 

167 
167 
168 
169 
170 
171 
172 


Vichy 

Compatriots 

The  good  parish    .... 
"The  Higijlands  in  winter" 
*'  I  have  preaclied  once  more 
"  Dr.  Chalmers "  .     .     .     . 
A  little  girl  in  London  .     . 


Extemporizing  in  the  London 

chapels  .... 
"  Rev.  J.  J.  Tayler  " 
"Eev.  W.  J.  Fox"  . 
"  Blanco  White  "  .  . 
"  Miss  Martineau  "  . 
"  English  Unitarianism  " 
"  Fraternal  Kindness 
Home  again  .  .  . 
The  unborn  book  .     . 


PAGE 
173 

174 
175 
176 

176 
177 
178 
179 
180 


VII. 


THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  MOVEMENT  IN  NEW  ENGLAND. 


Third    stage    in    the  Liberal 

movement 181 

Causes 182 

Unitarian  "  Free  Inquiry  "  182 

Humanitarianism  ....  183 
Channing's  "  Divinity  of  the 

Soul" 183 

Foreign  literature  .     .     .     .  185 

Divergence 186 

Ralph  Waldo   Emerson :    Di- 
vinity   School    Address, 

1838 187 

Boston  astir 189 


George  Ripley :    Brook  Farm, 

1841 190 

Unitarian  remonstrance  .  .  190 
Channing's  disappointment  .  193 
Theodore  Parker :  South  Bos- 
ton Sermon,  1841  .  .  .  194 
Transcendentalism  defined  .  195 
The  Boston  Association  .  .  198 
Parker's     Thursday    Lecture, 

Dec.  1844 199 

Separation  again  necessary    .  200 
The   two  Unitarian  bases  in- 
consistent    202 


VIII. 


MID-DAY:    KEEPING  THE   FAITH.  1838-1852. 


Hft'il-dai/  ^''or^^ 


4  Bumstead  Place  .  . 
"  Resolves  "  .... 
The  stroke !  .  .  .  . 
The  two  canes  .... 
Edits  JSIontlilii  ^fisrellatll/ 
Loctiu'es  on  Unitarianism 
The  Pierpont  Council  . 
"  White  Mountains  "      . 


204 
205 
206 
207 
208 
209 
211 
212 


Aged  forty 

Dr.  Channing's  death  . 
"  Lenox  and  Bennington 
The  Fathers  vanishing  . 

In  request 

"D.  D." 

Edits  Christian  Examiner 


213 

213 
214 
215 
215 
216 
216 


CGNTi 

^NTS. 

XUl 

Keeping 

he  Faith. 

PAGE 

PAGE 

Henceforth  conservative 

.     .     216 

Article  on  Parker      .... 

222 

"  Dr.  Channing's  sermons 

"    .     217 

"  Is  Parker  a  Christian  ? "  . 

222 

"Boston  Association"  . 

.     .     218 

"  Miracle  and  Intuition  "    . 

225 

''Berry-Street  Conference 

"  .     219 

"  Parker  and  Unitarians  "  . 

229 

Parker's  critic  .... 

.     .     220 

The  two  men 

233 

Disfellowsliip  or  not  ?     . 

.    .    221 

Frank  letters 

234 

Mid-day  Passing. 

Rockport :  "  Old  Farm  " 

.     237 

President    of    the    American 

"  The  still  chamber  "     . 

.     240 

Unitarian  Association 

250 

The  Christmases  .     .     . 

.     241 

Missionary  stir 

250 

"  A  woman "    .     .     .     . 

.     .     242 

In  request 

Salary-race  :  Parish  vs.  Pastor 

252 

"  The  memorial  book  "  . 

.     .     243 

253 

Lectures  on  tlie  Bible    . 

.     246 

"  The  forgotten  debt  "... 

254 

The  church  ebbing  .     . 

.     248 

"Henry" 

256 

Tired  moods     .... 

.     249 

IX. 


AFTERNOON:   ANTI-SLAVERY  AND   WAR   TIMES, 

1852-1865. 

The  Home  and  the  Man. 


The  minister's  house      .     .     .  258 

The  minister's  houseliold  .     .  259 

Channing  Circle 260 

Saturday  night 260 

Sunday 361 

Tlie  presence  in  the  home      .  262 

Anniversaries 262 

Economies 263 


Hospitalities 265 

Anniversary  week     ....  265 

Charities 266 

Lighting  sad  faces     ....  267 
Nerves  and  conscience  with- 
out humor  and  poetry      .  269 
Little  system,  little  rest      .     .  272 
Depression  :  struggle     .     .     .  273 


President  of  the  Boston  Fra- 
ternity of  Clmrches     .     .  275 
Plan  of  a  Theological  School  276 
Anlioch  College 277 


The  old  Church  abandoned    .  278 
Arlington  Street  Church    .     .  279 
"  Dedication  Sermon  on  Posi- 
tive Faith " 280 


Why  not  an  Abolitionist    . 
Two  memories  of  tiie  "Burns  " 

week 288 

Brotlier  May's  right  to  speak      291 
"  The  Abolitionist  spirit "  .     .     293 


Anti-SIaveri/  and  War  Times 

284 


The  vice  of  philanthropy"  .  295 

Tlie  grievous  wrong ".     .     .  296 
Freedom,     Peace,     Order," 

1850 296 

Calamity  of  Disunion,"  1850  297 


XIV 


CONTENTS, 


"  Union  mav  cost  too  much," 

1854  .  ' 300 

"  Till  the  hour  comes,"  1856  .  302 

"Not  yet,"  1800 303 

No  war  sermons 304 

"  God's  hand  visible,"  1803     .  30G 


'A  struggle  for  the  nation's 

life,"  1864 307 

■  The  result,"  1865  ....     308 

■  Thanksgiving    for  Peace," 

1865 309 


The  pastor's  delight  .     ...  311 

As  remembrancer 312 

"  Fortieth  Year  Sermon  "  .     .  313 

•'  Four  lines  of  thought "     .  313 
"  More    mystery  and  more 

trust" 314 


At  Sixty. 

The  Brooklyn  sermon    .     .     .  316 

Tired  out 317 

Called  up  in  Music  Hall     .     .  317 
National  Council  of  Congrega- 

tionalists 318 

Rest  once  more  in  Europe  .     .  319 


A  FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH,   1865-1871. 


Two  Unitarian  wings     .     .     . 

323 

Liberal  and  vague     .     .     .     . 

324 

"  The  palmy  days  gone  by  "  . 

325 

"  Discussing  our  differences". 

325 

Seizing  the  opportunity      .     . 

320 

"  A  serious  question  "    .     .     . 

328 

Semi-Centennial   Address    at 

Divinity  School,  18G7      . 

329 

"  Open  doors,  but  control "  . 

380 

"Duty  to  Radicals:  Parker" 

332 

"  Loyal  both  to  Christ  and  Lib- 

prtv  " 

334 

"Mere  pugnacious  Unitarian- 

ism  " 

387 

Attitude  towards  elders 

387 

Channing  Memorial  Service 

388 

As  professor:  Lovell's  letter 

388 

Wifli  lu^v-ininititpr* 

344 

His  apologies 

345 

Letters  to  his  son  : 

"  Stability  and  movement ' 

346 

"  A  Christirm  minister"  . 

347 

"  Preaching  cumulative  " 

350 

"  With  the  mourning  "  . 

351 

Sixty-six  years  old     .     .     . 

351 

The  letter  prepared   .     .     . 

352 

"Christmas.  1807"    .     .     . 

353 

"  At  Dixville  Notch  "    .     . 

.    353 

The  study-couch 354 

355 
356 
356 
357 
358 
358 
359 
359 
361 
363 
364 
365 


"  The  letter  " 

Resignation  not  accepted  . 
The  two  pilgrims  .... 
Welcome  at  Milwaukee 
Students'  club-table  .  .  . 
Second  resignation  .  .  , 
Parish-votes  ..... 
"  My  Dear  Friends  ".  .  , 
"  The  Old  and  the  New  "  , 
Dr.  Walker's  welcome  .  , 
A  young  man's  plea  . 
"  My  dear  Chaney  "      .     , 

In  the  depths 367 

Slow  revival 368 

"  Glad,"  Jan.  1,  1871      ...     370 

The  old  theme 871 

The  Herjister  dinner   .     .     .     .     871 
"  My  seventieth  birthday  "     .     872 

The  last  sermon 372 

Happy  Wliitefield  sunnner      .     873 

Sunday  evenings 374 

The  last  work-day     ....     376 
Homewards 377 


At  Home  ! 378 

In  the  church 378 


CONTENTS. 


xy 


XI. 

AFTER-GLOW. 
Tributes  of  Friends. 


Memorial  services 
Hon.  Waldo  Flint  . 
Rev.  Calvin  Lincoln  . 
Rev.  Dr.  Clarke  .  . 
Rev.  Rufus  Ellis  .  . 
Rev.  Dr.  Bartol  .  . 
Rev.  Dr.  Peabody  . 
Rev.  A.  D.  Mayo  .  . 
Hon.  George  S.  Hillard 
E.  P.  Whipple  .  .  . 
Rev.  J.  F.  Lovering  . 
Rev.  R.  L.  Carpenter 


PAGE 

380 
381 
383 
385 


390 
391 
391 
392 
393 
893 


PAGB 

Rev.  Dr.  Morison 395 

Rev.  Dr.  Hedge 398 

Rev.  E.  E.  Hale 401 

Rev.  Dr.  Bellows 403 


Rev.  Dr.  Eliot 

Rev.  T.  J.  Mumford  .  . 
The  Ministers'  Association 
Rev.  J.  W.  Chadwick  .  . 
The  parish  :  church-tablet . 


405 
407 
408 
410 
412 


The  grave 413 


XII. 

SERMONS. 

Self-revealed  in  sermons    .    .    415  I  The  manuscripts 417 

The  favorite  themes  ....    416  I  These  selections 418 

Out  of  the  Depths.    Dee.  8,  1867 419 

Mysteries.     1857 429 

The  Mystery  of  God.     1865 439 

Religion  the  Consciousness  and  Culture  of  a  Spiritual  Life  and  Spir- 
itual Relations.     1829 449 

The  Soul's  Salvation  through  Faith  in  Christ.     1859-1860      ...  458 

The  Doctrinal  Basis  of  Christianity.     1862 473 

The  Largeness  of  Christianity.     1846 484 

Great  Principles  in  Small  Matters.     1849 493 

"Life."     1858 602 

Imjwrtance  of  Opinions  as  the  Basis  of  a  Religious  Life.    1849-1850  507 

What  Unitarians  Believe.     1845.     1849.     1871 514 

The  Minister  and  his  Business.     1839-1860.     (Seven  extracts)    .     .  535 

Life  in  Death.     1847 560 

Well  Done,  Good  and  Faithful  Servant !     1866 561 

Appendix  :  List  of  Publications 665 


CALEB    AND    KCTH. 


EZRA    STILES    GANNETT, 


I. 


THE  HOME  AXD  THE   BOY 


1801-1816. 

It  was  a  true  New  England  home,  such  as  homes 
were  in  the  New  England  of  seventy  years  ago,  —  a 
solemn  spot  for  a  little  man  to  be  born  in.  They  were 
homes  with  more  reverence  than  grace  in  their  life, 
more  duty  than  beauty,  where  strict  disciplines  and  a 
very  present  conscience  took  not  only  their  own  place, 
but  the  place  of  humor  and  caresses  and  easy  sym- 
pathies. Not  that  the  sympathy  and  love  were  lacking, 
but  sense  of  the  duty  stiffened  them.  The  boys  and 
girls  sent  "  duty  "  instead  of  *'  love  "  to  their  elders. 
Life  was  a  responsibility  in  these  homes,  a  ''  charge  to 


10  EZBA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1801-181(3. 

keep."  The  parents  would  fain  transmit  their  own 
strong  principles  and  earnest  ways  through  set  routines 
of  thought  and  conduct.  The  Bible,  the  Sabbath,  the 
Meeting- House  and  Minister,  the  fear  of  God  and  rev- 
erent behavior,  —  of  these  the  children  heard  much  on 
week-days  as  well  as  Sahbath-days. 

Caleb,  the  father  in  this  particular  New  England 
home,  Avas  a  thick-set  man,  with  a  slow  dignity  in  his 
face,  and  momentous  manners  ;  exact,  not  fluent ;  given 
to  precepts;  not  to  be  imposed  upon;  intellectual  by 
balance  of  faculties  rather  than  by  talents.  His  rounded 
judgment  and  thorough  honesty  and  diligent,  stable 
habits,  made  him  a  man  for  trusts.  "  He  was  always 
active,"  —  thus  his  boy's  journal  describes  him,  —  "  and 
in  the  performance  of  duty  ever  calm  and  under  self- 
control,  steady  in  the  pursuit  of  his  high  purpose  of 
living,  and  always  under  the  influence  of  a  pure  and 
sanctifying  spirit  of  religion."  For  a  few  years  in  early 
life  he  had  been  a  minister,  rather  liberal  in  thought  for 
that  day,  for  he  styled  himself  a  Baxterian  rather  than 
a  Calvinist,  and  asked  his  teacher.  Dr.  Gay  of  Hing- 
liam,  —  sometimes  called  ''  the  father  of  American  Uni- 
tarianism,"  —  to  preach  his  ordination  sermon.  But 
judged  by  the  funeral  sermon,  that  came  a  full  half- 
century  afterward,  "  Mr.  Gannett  disliked  the  temerity 
of  philosophizing  theologians,  and  his  religious  princi- 
ples were  in  strict  accord  with  the  churches  of  New 
England  ;  "  so  it  is  probable  that,  after  the  first  advance, 
he  stood  still,  and  let  the  age  catch  up  with  him.  He 
was  still  young,  however,  —  the  war  had  not  yet  begun, 
—  when  he  was  already  back  at  Harvard  as  mathemati- 
cal tutor.  There  for  nearly  forty  years,  until  his  death, 
he  was  the  Steward  of  the  College.  The  Treasurer  of 
Cambridge  parish  too  ;  and  now  and  then,  to  keep  his 
mathematics  above  the  level  of  the  bills  and  ledjG:ers, 


1801-1816.]       THE  HOME  AND   THE  BOY.  11 

he  sent  a  paper  on  Eclipses  or  the  Aurora  Borealis  to  the 
American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  of  which  he 
was  a  founder. 

Back  of  him  lay  four  or  five  generations  of  Massachu- 
setts farmer-life.  The  Gannetts  were  early  settlers  in 
the  Old  Colony,  and  Caleb  was  doubtless  glad  to  count 
among  his  sixteen  great-great-great-grandmothers  one 
Mary  Chilton,  a  ''  Mayflower  "  girl,  and  the  first  of 
woman-kind  —  so  saj^s  the  family  tradition  —  to  touch 
the  Plymouth  sands  at  the  general  landing  of  the  Pil- 
grims. Common  country-folk  the  Gannetts  had  been 
through  all  these  years,  and  Caleb's  generation  was  the 
first  to  win  the  o^ood  fortune  of  a  Harvard  education. 

The  first  mother  in  this  home  had  died,  leaving  two 
girls  and  two  boys  behind  her.  A  year  and  a  half 
passed  by,  and  the  second  mother  had  come  in  and  was 
conscientiously  at  work  doing  her  best  by  the  children. 
She  was  Ruth  Stiles,  daughter  of  the  President  of  Yale 
College.  Not  much  romance  could  there  have  been  in 
this  marriage  between  the  Steward  and  the  President's 
daughter.  He  was  fifty-five  and  she  was  thirty-five 
years  old.  Perhaps  they  had  learned  to  esteem  each 
other  at  the  house  of  their  close  neighbor,  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Holmes,  parish  minister,  who  had  married  Ruth's 
elder  sister.  Perhaps  her  love  of  order  and  her  religious 
habits  tallied  well  with  his.  And  yet  she  must  have 
brought  into  the  home  a  nature  quite  unlike  the  father's. 
His  picture  shows  the  face  that  could  send  the  children 
supperless  upstairs  Avith  a  look  and  a  silent  finger- 
gesture,  and  make  the  students  sober-minded  at  first 
sight.  Her  picture  has  the  large  sensitive  features  of 
a  refined  and  clear-brained  woman.  Her  father  was 
one  of  the  learned  men  of  our  Revolutionary  time,  a 
friend  of  Franklin  and  Jefferson  and  Washington  and 
Adams,  one  who  entertained  foreigners,  and  carried  on 


12  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1801-1816. 

a  large  correspondence  with  English  scholars;  so  that 
Ruth  had  enjoyed  much  more  than  a  girl's  usual  chance 
for  culture.  She  was  even  literary  herself,  although  her 
verses,  some  left  in  pjrint  and  some  in  manuscript,  are  as 
bare  of  poetry  as  they  are  full  of  her  religiousness. 

For  she  was  very  deeply  religious,  with  a  real  and 
tender  trust.     In  belief,  she  was  the  true  daughter  of 
three  generations  of  Calvinistic  ministers.     The  fly-leaf 
of  her  Bible  contains  the  record  of  her  readings  in  it. 
Twenty-two  times  from  cover  to  cover  since  she  was 
ten  years  old !    Every  eighteen  months,  on  the  average, 
found  her  beginning  Genesis  anew.    But  she  was  grow- 
ing wiser  towards  the  end ;  of  her  last  two  years  the 
entry  tells:    *' I  have  confined  my  reading  principally 
to  the  New  Testament  and  Psalms,  occasionally  reading 
the  Prophets."     In  her  hymn-book  is  a  similar  note  of 
*'  hymns  read  in  the  first  part  of  what  I  now  consider 
my  last  sickness,  several  of  which  I  committed  to  mem- 
ory.    Hymns  marked  otherwise  were  read  with  great 
delight  in  a   more   advanced   stage    of  my  disorder." 
Was  it  only  her  father's  note-book  habit  strong  in  her  ; 
or   was  she    thinking  of    her   boy,   and    hoping   that 
through  this  little  record  he  might  come  to  know  his 
dead  mother  ?     These  favorite  hymns  are  those  of  sim- 
ple yearning  trust.     But  there  is  a  manuscript  of  Birth-' 
day  Reflections,  which  shows  her  nature  best ;  and  it  may 
be  interesting  to  those  who  loved  her  boy,  as  indicating 
whence  he  derived  some  of  his  marked  traits.     Year  by 
year,  she  sets  down  her  self-reproach,  her  thanksgiving, 
and  her  prayers  agamst  besetting  sins.      A  quick  im- 
patience seems  to  have  cost  her  many  regretful  sighs. 
Morbid  introspection,  with  a  deep  sense  of  sinfulness, 
darkens  almost  every  page.     '*  Another  year,  dreadful 
thought !  is  to  be  given  an  account  of."     She  is  an  un- 
grateful "  cumbercr  of  the  ground,"  and  trusts  only  to 


1801-1816.]       THE   HOME  AND   THE  BOY.  13 

the  atoning  blood  of  Christ.  "  I  am  continually  prone 
to  doubt  my  own  sincerity,  so  deeply  has  sin  poisoned 
every  faculty  of  my  soul.  Known  only  unto  Thee  is 
it,  whether  I  am  still  in  a  state  of  nature  and  deluding 
myself  with  a  false  hope  of  blessedness.  .  .  .  Yet  it  ap- 
pears that  I  love  Thee  better  than  all  things  else,  and 
hope  my  love  increases  with  my  years."  After  her 
marriage  she  grows  more  cheerful,  being  busied  with 
the  charge  of  the  children,  and  very  thankful  for  the 
birth  of  her  own  child.  Here  is  her  Birthday  Psalm 
after  her  little  Stiles  was  born :  — 

"  How  great  are  the  mercies  that  I  have  this  day  to  record ! 
The  past  year  has  opened  a  new  era  of  my  life.  I  have  been 
carried  through  weakness  and  distress,  pain  and  sorrow,  and 
at  length  have  been  made  to  feel  the  most  exquisite  of  all 
earthly  pleasures,  a  joy  which  none  but  the  mother  can  ex- 
perience. What  shall  I  render  to  the  Lord  for  all  his  good- 
ness ?  Oh  that  I  may  be  enabled  to  devote  the  life  spared, 
and  the  life  saved,  to  Thee,  my  heavenly  Father !  While  I 
meditate  on  Thy  mercies,  my  heart  overflows  with  gratitude 
and  i3raise;  but,  alas,  how  transient  is  the  remembrance, 
how  weak  the  impression !  When  will  this  ungrateful  heart 
cease  to  be  drawn  off  from  Thee  by  the  things  of  this  vain 
world?" 

And  then  she  prays  to  be  kept  from  showing  "  an 
undue  partiality  to  the  dear  child "  which  God  has 
given  her,  and  for  grace  to  bring  him  up  in  the  nurture 
and  admonition  of  the  Lord. 

He  was  the  only  child  of  this  marriage.  At  his  ad- 
vent the  other  children  were  already  far  away  in  years ; 
one,  a  boy  in  college  ;  and  one,  a  boy  studying  his  Latin 
Grammar  ;  and  one  was  a  young  maiden,  who,  soon  after, 
married  a  minister-husband ;  and  there  was  a  little  girl 
ten  years  old.  Stiles,  as  the  stranger  was  called,  was 
''  the  baby  "  of  the  house.     With  all  the  decorum  and 


14  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1801-181G. 

ordered  ways  of  the  home-life,  and  those  silent  finger- 
gestures,  the  letters  show  warm  feelings,  and  a  happy, 
cheerful  intercourse,  even  some  fun  and  sentiment. 
Ruth's  sentiment  ran  into  verse.  Now  there  is  a  hymn 
for  ^'  Master  Stiles  Gannett,"  and  now  a  rhyme  wrapped 
round  a  bit  of  the  boy's  hair  as  he  "  sends  duty  to  grand- 
mamma." Pleasant  neiohbors  and  relations  lived  close 
by;  for  the  Gannetts  belonged  to  the  cultured,  staid 
society  that  centred  round  the  college-yard  and  col- 
lege interests,  and  was  eyed  aloof  by  the  towns-people, 
who  murmured  something  about  "exclusive  aristocrats." 
Their  house  was  on  the  notch  at  the  corner  of  Kirkland 
Street  and  North  Avenue,  very  nearly  on  the  spot  where 
the  DiniuG^  Hall  now  stands.  From  the  door  one  looked 
out  on  the  "  Common,"  festive  and  crowded,  and  covered 
with  booths  on  the  great  Commencement  Days ;  while 
a  moment's  walk  brought  one  to  the  old  brick  buildings 
set  in  the  sacred  green. 

Such  were  the  parent-moulds,  and  such  the  home  of 
the  boy  who  was  born  on  the  fourth  of  May,  1801,  and 
named  after  his  grandfather,  Ezra  Stiles.  If  we  may 
venture  to  trace  back  the  characteristics  that  later  life 
displayed,  it  is  probable  that  his  energy,  his  enthusiasm, 
his  constant  sense  of  dissatisfaction  with  himself,  and  his 
warm,  impulsive  speech,  were  mainly  due  to  the  mother  ; 
and  that  to  his  father  he  owed  more  largely  the  exact- 
ness of  his  conscience,  his  sense  of  justice,  and  the 
steady,  conservative  clinch  on  convictions  that  had  once 
been  formed.  The  practical,  unspeculating  intellect 
that  saw  points  so  acutely,  and  kept  so  logically  on  the 
way  to  them,  came  to  him,  perhaps,  from  both. 

Not  very  long  did  '^  the  life  spared  "  last  to  care  for 
*'  the  life  given."  The  boy  was  barely  seven  when  his 
mother  died.  His  conscious  memories  of  her  were  very 
slight,  but  she  had  had  time  to  give  him  some  of  those 


1801-181G.]       THE  HOME  AND    THE  BOY.  15 

strong  impressions  about  God  and  duty  that  underlay 
all  his  subsequent  purpose.  A  trivial  incident  may 
as  well  be  told,  though  only  one  of  those  little  child- 
pictures  that  happen  to  print  themselves  off  on  a  mind, 
and,  after  lying  buried  for  years,  so  oddly  come  to  light 
from  an  old  friend's  memor}^  Once  the  mother  tested 
him.  They  were  making  plum-puddings  in  the  kitchen. 
"  Sally,  take  these  raisins  into  the  parlor,  and  offer 
them  to  Stiles,  and  urge  him  to  take  them,"  she  said. 
The  girl  played  her  part  faithfully.  "  I  don't  want 
them,  Sally."  *'  Why,  don't  3'ou  love  raisins  ?  "  "  Yes, 
but  don't  you  know  that  my  dear  mother  does  not  wish 
me  to  eat  them?"  "Oh,  nonsense!  she  won't  know 
any  thing  about  it ;  take  them  1 "  He  looked  his  Eve  in 
the  face  solemnly,  and  said,  ''Sally,  I  am  astomshed  at 
you  !  Do  you  think  I  would  do  any  thing  that  I  knew 
my  dear  mother  did  not  wish  me  to  do,  because  she  did 
not  know  it?  I  am  astonished  at  you!"  It  sounds  a 
little  "goody"  for  the  boy,  and  not  quite  so  good  as 
might  be  for  the  mother ;  but  it  gives  the  key-note  of 
the  whole  after-life,  and  gives  it  chiming  true  to  the 
mother's  anxious  touch.  A  few  relics  of  her  tenderness 
were  treasured  all  through  that  life.  Among  them  is  a 
small  brown  book  inscribed,  "  The  mother's  gift  to  her 
little  boy,"  which  contains  in  her  handwriting  some 
childish  prayers  and  hymns,  and  a  tiny,  trusting  cate- 
chism that  she  herself  composed  for  him.  It  suggests  a 
pleasant  picture  of  the  earnest,  clear-faced  mother,  and 
"her  black-eyed  urchin,"  as  she  calls  him,  by  her  side, 
catching  her  smile  and  the  reverence  of  her  tones.  His 
grave  child-face  appearing  with  her  in  the  meeting- 
house is  still  remembered.  "  Nothing  around  disturbed 
his  eye  or  ear  from  the  preacher,"  writes  one,  then  a 
little  maid,  who  sat  in  the  next  pew  watching  him. 
And  it  seems  as  if  her  hand  guided  the  boy  to  his  future 


16  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1801-1816. 

profession,  when,  in  his  chronicle  of  Sunda}^  sermons, 
we  read  back  through  an  era  of  long  abstracts,  and 
another  of  short  "  heads,"  into  a  still  earlier  one  of  bare 
texts,  and  find  that  this  primitive  stage  begins  inside  his 
mother's  life-time,  that  the  first  few  texts  are  recorded 
for  him  by  the  mother's  hand. 

Her  latter  years  were  years  of  pain,  and  the  "  Birth- 
day Reflections  '^  show  her  looking  at  death  afar  off, 
patient,  but  waiting,  and  wondering  why  the  life  so  use- 
less is  still  prolonged. 

"  Is  it  to  give  me  time  to  fill  up  the  measure  of  my  iniquity, 
and  to  ripen  for  destruction  ?  I  dare  not  admit  bo  awful  a 
supposition !  Is  it  that  I  am  still  in  an  unregenerate  state, 
and  that  my  will  has  not  yet  been  subdued,  nor  my  soul 
bowed  to  the  sceptre  of  Jesus,  that  a  merciful  God  is  waiting 
to  be  gracious ;  that  light  may  yet  arise  out  of  darkness, 
and  the  wanderer  be  restored  to  his  father's  home  ?  Or  is  it 
(delightful  thought !)  to  complete  a  work  of  grace  already 
begun  in  the  soul,  and  to  perfect  that  holiness  without  which 
none  shall  see  the  Lord  ?  Is  this  the  case,  welcome  sufierings 
and  trials,  afflictions  and  sorrows;  for,  though  the  feeble 
body  shall  shrink  from  them,  the  soul  shall  be  purified  and 
made  meet  to  be  partaker  with  the  saints  in  light." 

This  last  was  her  real  thought,  and  its  delight  made 
her  sick-room  the  resort  of  all  her  friends,  and  even  of 
strangers  desirous  to  see  a  person  so  happy  in  full  view 
of  death.  Once,  among  the  pilgrims,  came  the  young  Mr. 
Chauning,  recently  settled  in  Boston  ;  and  there  by  the 
mother's  death-bed  he,  perhaps,  saw  for  the  first  time  the 
little  boy  who  was  to  be  his  colleague  and  successor. 

Very  quietly  and  systematically  she  made  herself 
ready  for  the  vanishing.  For  a  whole  year  now,  another 
little  book  had  held  a  few  memorials  of  her  own  father 
and  mother :  ''  copyed  May,  1807,  by  Ruth  Gannett,  for 
the  use  and  benefit  of  her  07il^  child,  to  whom  they  are 


1801-1816.]       THE  HOME  AND   THE   BOY.  17 

devoutly  recommended  by  his  affectionate  Mother." 
She  knew  she  would  never  read  them  to  him.  She 
had  set  down,  in  lists,  her  worldly  goods,  directing  how 
"  the  white  cotton  countapain  with  pink  stars,"  and  ''  the 
quilted  peticoat  that  was  my  mother's,"  and  "  the  large 
green  fan,"  and  "  the  best  white  fan,"  and  ''  the  black 
fan,"  and  all  the  rest  of  the  wifely  furnishing,  should 
be  disposed  of.  Relatives  would  come  riding  from  a 
distance  to  the  funeral,  so  she  had  the  hard  gingerbread 
made  up  ready  for  them.  And  now  —  in  a  different, 
trembling  hand  —  she  added  to  the  list,  "  To  Stiles,"  — 
her  boy,  —  "globe,  books,  writing-desk,  green  glasses, 
trunk  of  papers,  white  hair-trunk,  family  hair-ring, 
brooch,"  —  there  her  hand  seems  to  have  suddenly 
failed,  the  word  is  hardly  legible  ;  perhaps  the  mother's 
heart  broke  down. 

Before  long  he  was  sent  away  to  Rev.  Mr.  Williams, 
the  minister  at  Lexington,  to  be  housed  and  taught  for 
a  year ;  and  his  first  letters  date  from  this  country- 
home.  They  tell  his  progress  in  big,  grave  words,  with 
bigger  interlined  by  the  minister.  "  Besides  the  common 
studies  and  beginning  Latin,  I  recite  in  the  catechism 
and  Dr.  Doddridge's  '  Education  of  Children.'  "  Evi- 
dently he  was  a  good  boy,  —  a  trying  one.  He  copies 
and  recopies  his  letter,  sends  "  duty,"  and  seems  very 
solemn.  He  reads  the  Bible  daily,  and  receives  his  first 
own  Bible  from  the  father ;  ''  and  not  so  much  from 
you  as  from  God,"  as  the  father  had  written  him  he 
ought  to  receive  it.  Twice  on  Sundays  he  is  in  the 
pew,  earnest  to  take  down  the  text  of  the  discourse. 

Six  months  more  at  home,  and  the  boy  starts  again 
into  the  world,  —  this  time  for  Phillips  Academy,  at 
Andover.  Well  charged  with  precepts  come  the  father's 
letters  :  "  Obsta  principiis,"  "  omnia  vincit  labor,"  are 
the  maxims  for  the  young  Latinist.     He  is  to  centre 

2 


18  EZRA    STILES  GANNETT.        [1801-1816. 

himself  in  religion  ;  "  go  straight  forward  and  avoid  by- 
paths," as  well  as  awkwardness  and  shy  manners  and 
loud  talk ;  and  to  get  music,  if  he  can,  but  is  cautioned 
against  "too  much."  ''Psalmody  is  the  best."  He 
never  could  get  any.  "  We  take  Emerson's  Catechism 
in  place  of  grammar ;  "  and  the  httle  book,  with  "  Ezra 
S.  Gannett,  ejus  liber,  1812,"  on  the  cover,  was  kept  as 
long  as  he  lived.  A  row  of  New  England  pastors  testi- 
fies that  it  will  tend  to  "  guard  the  rising  generation 
against  the  fatal  errors  which  are  so  zealously  propa- 
gated at  the  present  day  by  the  enemies  of  truth,"  — 
which  means  the  then  unchristened  Unitarians.  A  queer, 
grim  book  to  rear  children  on !  First  come  inch-square 
barbarous  wood-cuts,  beginning  with  Cain  standing 
over  Abel  with  a  club ;  Abraham  poises  his  big  knife 
over  Isaac ;  Jael  drives  her  nail ;  David  holds  the 
giant's  head  ;  Joab  spears  Absalom ;  and  Solomon's 
soldier  brandishes  the  baby  ;  and  Nebuchadnezzar 
creeps  on  all  fours,  bristling  like  a  hedgehog.  A  "  Minor 
Doctrinal  Catechism "  follows,  from  which  the  boys 
learned  of  what  God  made  all  things ;  viz.,  "  Of  noth- 
ing, Heb.  xi.  3."  "  For  whom  did  God  make  all  things  ? 
For  himself."  —  "  What  do  3"ou  deserve  ?  I  deserve 
everlasting  destruction  in  hell."  —  "If  3^ou  should  go  to 
hell,  how  long  must  you  continue  there  ?  For  ever  and 
ever,  as  long  as  God  shall  exist.  Matt.  xxv.  46."  Then 
the  "  Minor  Historical  Catechism  "  gives  a  synopsis  of 
Biblical  events,  and  the  "  Shorter  Westminster  Cate- 
chism "  ends  the  course,  well  bulwarked  with  texts  and 
comments  by  Dr.  Watts.  This  last  "  has  probably 
done  ten  times  more  good  than  any  volume  written  by 
man  uninspired,  and  is  undoubtedly  the  best  catechism 
in  existence ; "  so  an  appended  note  declares.  Per- 
haps this  unstrained  milk  for  babes  gave  Stiles  his  first 
distaste  for  the  faith  that  he  so  soon  outgrew. 


1801-1816.]       THE  HOME  AND   THE  BOY.  19 

The  second  Thanksgiving  found  him  at  home  again, 
and  there  he  passed  four  more  quick  years  in  the  good 
times  that  an  earnest  boy  has  when  preparing  for  col- 
lecre.  Collecre  looks  like  a  little  career  in  itself  to  a 
Cambridge  boy  of  the  inner  circle,  offering  a  whole  set 
of  life-aims  and  motives  in  miniature.  By  his  bits  of 
journals  there  must  have  been  hard  work  done  in  the 
studies,  but  it  was  mixed  with  fun.  The  man's  habits 
are  in  germ  ;  for  here  are  curious  lists  of  his  "  Books, 
Clothes,  and  Other  Things,"  of  the  school-mates,  and 
the  cycle  of  school-games,  and  of  expenses.  The  outlays 
Avere  not  extravagant  for  one  almost  a  Freshman :  one 
dollar  and  sixty-seven  cents  is  the  amount  of  pocket- 
money  received  from  "  D.  F."  (Dear  Father)  between 
January  and  September,  1816.  These  seem  to  fore- 
shadow his  ways  of  careful  registry,  and  the  struggle  to 
balance  the  week's  accounts  on  the  Saturday  nights  long 
afterwards.  Perhaps  that  clothes-journal  —  in  which 
the  "  soling  of  boots,"  and  the  epoch  of  the  ''  shirts  not 
white  "  and  the  "  new  jacket,"  are  so  minutely  dated 
—  prophesied  the  punctilious  linen,  the  thrifty  endur- 
ance of  well-brushed  coats,  and  the  frequent  hand- 
bathings  of  older  daysl  Nicely  copied,  there  remains 
a  set  of  conundrums,  in  which  St.  Ives,  and  the 
frog  climbing  the  well,  and  the  river-puzzle  of  fox, 
goose,  and  corn,  and  the  three  travellers  at  the  cara- 
vansary, with  other  venerable  problems,  appear,  besides 
a  few  religious  extracts  and  elect  statistics,  —  such  as 
the  middle  verse  of  the  Bible,  how  often  the  word 
"and"  occurs  in  it,  &c.  In  January,  1814,  the  boy 
projected  a  monthly  literary  and  political  newspaper, 
named  allegorically  "-  The  Stile."  "  The  circulation  is 
to  be  limited  to  twelve  subscribers,  as  the  editor  lias  not 
time  to  make  more  than  twelve  copies  of  his  issue,  and 
the  subscribers  are  to  pay  one  cent  on  subscription  and 


20  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1801-1810. 

one  on  receipt  of  each  paper."  It  contained  one  other 
original  feature  also,  —  the  first  number  was  redated  to 
become  the  second.  And  then,  aj)parently,  it  died, — 
even  of  that  issue  three  copies  remaining  on  the  projector's 
hands  to  tell  the  tale.  The  book-list  reveals  a  strong: 
predominance  of  sober  elements.  Rasselas,  The  Idler, 
Pleasures  of  Hope,  Telemachus,  Aphorisms  on  Man, 
Trials  of  Temper,  Watts's  Divine  Songs,  Wonders  of 
Nature  and  Art,  and  Harris's  Encyclopaedia,  seem  to 
have  thus  far  made  much  of  his  lighter  reading. 

But  the  most  characteristic  "  remains  "  of  this  period 
are  those  sermon-abstracts  which  run  back  to  the 
mother's  suggestion,  and  grow  longer  and  longer  as  he 
grows  older.  There  are  few  Sundays  on  which  the  pew 
does  not  hold  him  twice.  The  habit  must  have  done 
much  to  educate  his  quickness  in  getting  the  points  of 
a  book,  and  the  tendency  to  treat  his  own  subjects  in 
the  logical,  divided  way.  When  he  chanced  —  it  was 
but  rarely  —  to  hear  a  sermon  in  after-life,  he  always 
enjoyed  setting  up  its  frame-work  at  the  tea-table  talk. 
Dr.  Holmes's  doctrine  accorded,  though  not  too  pre- 
cisely, with  the  catechism.  There  was  open  exchange, 
however,  in  those  days  ;  and  Cambridge  pulpit  was  often 
occupied  by  pastors  of  the  neighborhood  more  liberal 
than  himself.  Unitarianism  had  not  yet  been  driven 
to  the  break  with  Orthodoxy ;  but  opinions  were  fast 
ripening  to  distinctness,  and  most  of  the  men  who  a 
little  later  took  part  in  the  controversy  were  already  in 
their  places.  Besides  "  Uncle  Holmes,"  as  Stiles  called 
him,  and  the  other  conservative  preachers,  the  boy  was 
reporting  Kirkland  and  Ware  and  Pierce  and  Porter 
and  Lowell  and  Channing. 

Dr.  Hedge's  recollection  of  his  schoolmate  will  fitly 
end  the  sketch  of  these  young  days :  — 


1801-1816.]       THE  HOME  AND   THE  BOY.  21 

"  We  were  pupils  together  for  a  few  months  —  I  just 
entering  on  ray  classical  studies,  he  far  advanced  in  his  prep- 
aration for  college  —  in  a  private  school,  taught  by  Dr.  John 
G.  Palfrey,  former  minister  of  Brattle  Street  Church,  then  a 
resident  graduate  and  student  of  theology  in  Cambridge.  I 
recall  looking  up  to  this  older  school-fellow  then  with  the 
mingled  awe  and  admiration  with  which  a  boy  of  nine  years 
is  apt  to  regard  a  superior  youth  of  fourteen ;  his  brilliant 
recitations  from  the  Latin  text-book,  his  flowing  speech,  his 
maturity  and  choice  of  diction,  the  fascination  of  which  to 
my  boyish  ear  was  such  that  I  could  not  choose  but  listen 
in  the  single  rude  school-room  where  all  the  lessons  were 
audible  to  all,  neglecting  my  own  tasks  at  the  risk  of  the 
penalty  which,  under  Dr.  Palfrey's  wholesome  rule,  awaited 
such  neglect.  I  well  remember  how  his  schoolmates  looked 
upon  him  then  as  quite  an  exceptional  youth.  '  Stiles  Gan- 
nett,' it  was  whispered  among  us,  '  is  very  religious ; '  and 
anecdotes  were  current  of  his  exceptional  piety.  Boys  are 
not  usually  charmed  with  that  quality  in  a  schoolmate,  and 
boyish  criticism  is  apt  to  cavil  at  whatever  seems  a  damper 
on  boyish  mirth  ;  but  no  ridicule  ever  attached  to  young 
Gannett's  serious  wnvs." 


M 


M 


THE    CAMBRIDGE    II03IESTEAD. 


11. 


SEEKING  AND   FINDING. 

1816-1821. 

"August  31,  1816.  Was  accepted  upon  examination, 
having  studied,  besides  the  Grammars  and  smaller  books, 
part  of  the  first  vohime  of  Morse's  Universal  Geography ; 
Cummings'  Geography ;  Webber's  Arithmetic ;  Webber's 
JMathematics,  as  far  as  Equations  in  Algebra;  Euclid's 
Geometry,  two  books;  Bibliotheque  Portative,  147  pages; 
Virgil;  Cicero;  Sallust ;  Greek  Testament;  Graeca  Minora; 
Livy,  three  books;  Terence,  one  play  .and  part  of  another; 
Decerpta  Ovidii ;  Homer,  three  books ;  and  considerable 
writing  Latin." 

That  is  the  little  chronicle  with  which  he  sums  up 
the  burden  of  his  boyhood.      Now   the   lo\hood  was 


over.     He  was  a  Freshman  at  Harvard, 


;nf 


ht  lad  of 


fifteen  years,  eager  for  the  College  friendships  and 
prizes  and  pleasures ;  at  the  same  time,  gradually 
coming  to  himself,  and  saddening  by  the  v.\;y. 


181G-1821.]         SEEKING  AND  FINDING.  23 

Halfway  through  the  course,  his  father  died,  and  the 
homo  was  broken  up.  The  two  had  never  been  inti- 
mately acquainted.  On  the  son's  side,  the  relation  was 
one  of  reverence  rather  than  of  childlike  love.  In  after- 
life, his  strongest  recollections  of  the  father  were  asso- 
ciated with  serious  conversations,  with  the  Sunday 
window-seat  where  the  boy  sat  ensconced,  listening  to 
the  weekly  instruction,  and  the  Saturday  nights  when 
the  family  sat  around  the  fire  in  the  office  and  quieted 
themselves  in  preparation  for  the  Sabbath,  —  the  weary 
boy  now  and  then  devising  an  escape  to  the  kitchen. 
Still  he  felt  the  loss  deeply.  Life,  henceforth,  meant  life 
by  and  for  himself,  and  he  was  not  by  nature  very  self- 
reliant.  To  the  end,  he  always  longed  for  an  arm  of 
love  with  the  right  to  rest  upon  it. 

The  next  winter  (1818-19)  brought  an  odd  experi- 
ence. The  scene  v/as  Bedford,  a  tiny  village  a  dozen 
miles  away,  where  he  attempted  teaching  ''  district- 
school."  On  the  sci'ap  of  paper  on  which  the  shy 
teacher  enrolled  the  names  of  his  twenty-four  boys  and 
girls,  the  letters  are  all  shaken  from  their  forms.  A 
note,  added  later,  explains :  "  These  names  v/ere  writ- 
ten on  the  first  day  of  my  entering  the  school  at  Bed- 
ford. The  paper  is  worth  preserving  as  a  proof  of  my 
fear,  which  was  so  great  as  to  cause  such  trembling  of 
my  hand  as  prevented  my  writing  intelligibly."  lie 
must  have  bravely  conquered  first-morning  fears,  how- 
ever ;  for  the  Bedford  career  was  shortened  by  his 
speedily  winning  a  reputation  for  quite  the  opposite 
quality.  Undue  severity,  and  incapacity,  were  the  two 
specifications  of  the  charge  brought  against  him,  at  a 
meeting  of  the  school  committee  called  at  his  request. 
The  committee,  after  hearing  the  witnesses,  rebuked 
the  district,  and  fully  exonerated  the   young  teacher. 


24  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [181G-1821. 

But  the  teacher  had  withdrawn,  and  was  back  at  Cam- 
bridge, no  doubt  feeling  dismal  and  indignant. 

Dismal  and  despondent,  at  least ;  for  the  mother's 
self-reproaching  habit  was  strong  in  the  son  already. 
The  orphan-feeling  brooded  over  him.  Pie  is  wonder- 
ing what  he  shall  be,  and  his  dreams  are  tinted  by  the 
thought : — 

"How  foolish  does  it  appear  to  waste  one's  time  in  en- 
deavors to  gain  distinction,  or  even  happiness,  when  we  look 
at  the  close  of  Ufe,  and  consider  that  the  grave  closes  alike 
upon  all.  ...  I  sometimes  think  I  should  prefer  to  devote 
my  time  to  study  and  science,  that  I  should  glory  in  distinc- 
tion ;  but  at  others  I  say  to  myself,  how  much  better  it  were, 
if  possible,  to  settle  down  the  pastor  of  some  retired  and 
obscure  village,  and,  forsaking  and  forgot  by  the  world,  to 
devote  myself  solely  to  the  cause  of  religion  and  virtue,  to 
be  the  friend  as  well  as  the  minister  of  my  people,  and  if  old 
age  should  spread  its  wrinkles  on  my  brow,  to  descend  to  my 
grave  after  devoting  my  life  to  the  cause  of  my  God  and 
Saviour!" 

This  was  in  June,  1819.  A  little  later  the  gloom 
had  settled  more  deeply,  and  he  wrote :  — 

"  Why  nm  I  discontented  ?  It  is,  it  must  be,  because  I 
want  religion.  I  know  it,  I  dare  not  tell  myself  how  sinful, 
how  neglectful,  I  have  been  and  am.  Religion  and  I  are 
strangers:  I  know  it  only  from  report.  Its  real  influence,  its 
sanctifying  power,  I  never  felt.  I  have  neglected  its  duties ; 
I  have  wasted  its  privileges.  Uneasy,  discontented,  and 
fickle  must  I  continue,  till  I  know  more  of  its  power,  till  I 
become  a  disci])le  of  the  Saviour,  till  I  have  repented  for  past 
sins,  and  feel  that  to  do  good  is  my  desire,  to  be  good  my 
object."  .  .  . 

..."  I  believe  there  is  a  God  ;  for  there  is  such  evidence 
of  him  in  nature  that  I  must  believe  it.     But  there  I  stop. 


1816-1821.]         SEEKING  AND  FINDING.  25 

As  for  Christianity,  what  is  it  ?  Why  is  not  Mahometanism 
as  Efoocl  ?  I  have  no  faith  in  the  relimon  of  Jesus.  As  a 
moralist  I  follow  no  standard,  have  no  rules.  There  are 
some  sentiments  of  honor,  some  notions  of  right  and  good, 
which  I  suppose  are  natural.  I  owe  them  not  to  cultivation. 
I  am  passionate  ;  I  govern  not  my  anger  excepting  from 
policy,  for  withal  I  am  politic.  Perhaps  by  policy  I  mean 
nothing  but  selfishness,  —  a  feeling  which  leads  one  to  impose 
upon  others  for  his  own  benefit,  to  make  himself  the  great 
object  of  all  his  care,  all  his  actions." 

Such  expressions  half  refute  themselves.  They  tell 
the  story  of  the  morbidly  self-conscious  temperament, 
and  betray  that  struggle  with  himself,  beginning  then, 
which  went  on  to  the  last  day  of  his  life.  It  was  prima- 
rily due  to  inheritance.  Had  the  mother  lived  to  train 
the  steady  counter-habits,  he  might  have  conquered  this 
laming  of  his  birth.  The  father's  colder  touch  never 
made  good  her  loss.  Or  the  necessity  so  often  imposed 
by  inferior  talents  might  have  saved  him ;  but  he  was 
too  bright,  and  Avorked  too  successfully  in  emergencies, 
to  get  help  in  that  way.  He  had  pride ;  he  had  am- 
bition ;  above  all,  he  had  a  conscience  haunted  by  a  sense 
of  duty  stronger  than  his  will,  and  therefore  by  a  con- 
stant self-reproach.  The  will  was  of  the  pushing  rather 
than  the  pressing  kind.  It  prompted  much  ;  but  time 
would  slip  away,  and  opportunities  be  forfeited,  and 
plans  abandoned,  leaving  the  feeling  of  an  ideal 
thwarted  by  a  want  of  worth.  All  this  made  him 
suffer;  but  as  these  same  qualities  drove  him  also  into 
action,  and  the  activity  always  took  the  form  of  help- 
fulness to  others,  he  led,  more  than  most  men  do,  two 
lives,  —  an  inner  one  unusually  sad,  self-questioning, 
and  struggling,  an  outer  one  of  unselfish  energy  and 
rare  enthusiasm.     Throughout  our  story  w^e  shall  have 


26  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.  [1816-1821. 

to  turn  from  one  man  to  the  other  in  him  ;  and  the 
chief  good  in  writing  out  the  life  will  lie  in  showing 
what  rich  success. in  character  and  service  can  be  won 
under  these  circumstances.  Although  he  never  gained 
the  clear  victory  over  temperament,  in  the  striving  he 
accomplished  such  brave  living  that  the  seventy  years 
were  filled  with  uses  large  and  glad  to  all  eyes  save  his 
own.  But,  to  show  this  truly,  the  life  must  be  written 
truly  and  the  sadness  told. 

In  college,  the  fact  of  the  two  selves  was  already 
known  by  those  who  saw  most  of  him.  The  weeks, 
however,  were  by  no  means  all  so  gloomy  as  those  ex- 
tracts might  portend.  Gannett  enjoyed  the  pleasant 
college  times  ;  was  popular  with  his  fellows  ;  and,  with 
the  two  or  three  best  friends  who  used  to  laugh  him  out 
of  the  moods,  was  merry  enough.  Of  the  Hasty  Pudding 
Club,  which  in  that  day  m-acle  real  its  name,  he  was 
chosen  President:  and  an  address  before  the  "  S.S." 
faintly  echoes  a  Bacchanalian  ring ;  so  sermon-like, 
however,  that  it  hints  the  good  boy's  difficulty.  These 
mild  revelries  were  well  remembered  ;  and  always  after- 
wards he  loved  an  abstemious  "treat,"  and  fondly 
appreciated  the  physical  basis  of  geniality.  In  the  ex- 
pense-book of  his  vacation  journeys  by  the  Greenfield 
and  New  Haven  stage,  it  is  odd,  in  contrast  with  his 
later  strictness,  to  see  how  often  the  "drink"  comes  in 
at  the  change  of  horses.  At  that  time  both  drinks  and 
lottery-tickets  were  within  the  lines  of  righteousness  in 
Massachusetts. 

He  learned  the  lessons  too  quickly  for  his  own  good. 
"  Four  hours  a  day,"  writes  his  chum  Kent,  gave  him 
the  first  honors  at  graduation.  Nor  does  he  seem  to 
have  spent  his  leisure  very  usefully.  A  journal  of  the 
last  college  vacation  shows  him  rising  late,  which  doubt- 
less implies  late  sittings-up,  —  riding  and  going  to  the 


1816-1821.]  SEEKING  AND  FINDING.  27 

theatre,  and  reading  "  Gil  Bias,"  and  Petrarch,  and 
''  Thalaba,"  and  ''  Decision."  Possibly  it  was  out  of 
his  own  experience  that  he  chose  for  the  subject  of  the 
Class  Oration  "  The  Influence  of  Literature  on  the  Char- 
acter of  Individuals  and  Society,"  and  emphasized  espe- 
cially its  dangers.  The  first  part  at  Commencement  was 
also  his,  and  in  this  he  considered  ''  The  Revolutionary 
Spirit  of  Modern  Times."  It  was  1820  ;  Napoleon's  fate 
was  near  enough  to  point  the  moral ;  while  the  benefac- 
tors of  Harvard  supplied  contrast  to  the  Emperor,  and, 
according  to  the  college  rule,  turned  off  the  peroration 
nicely.  The  "  Master's  Oration,"  three  years  later, 
was  assigned  him,  but  by  his  request  was  transferred 
to  a  classmate  whose  sickness  during  the  course  had 
possibly  cost  him  the  first  rank.  The  ''  parts  "  and  his 
college  themes  are  written  in  a  very  careful  style,  and 
filled  with  sober,  just  reflections  ;  but  they  lack  humor, 
dash,  and  poetry.  Harvard  pruning  is  severe  on  young 
exuberance,  and  this  lad  was  grave  by  nature.  The 
coming  sermons  cast  their  shadows  before. 

Between  the  college  days  and  the  first  texts  lay  a  few 
months  of  doubt,  however.  What  should  the  life-path 
be  ?  A  high  purpose  and  religious  feeling,  literary  tastes, 
a  gift  of  ready  speech,  and  the  attraction  of  a  "  cause," 
called  him  towards  the  ministry.  But  he  went  slowly, 
with  misgivings ;  and  the  misgivings  lasted  long.  A 
good  aunt  in  Greenfield  remembered  the  orphan  ex- 
posed to  the  perils  of  Harvard's  liberality,  and  did  her 
best  to  dissuade  him  from  yielding  to  them.  "  It  is  a 
wise  son  that  looketh  betimes  i<y  his  launching  in  the 
business  of  life.  In  counsel  safety  is  found ;  and,  dear 
youth,  you  shall  have  it  from  me.  Enter  your  Uncle 
Leavitt's  oflice,  a  student  at  law  and  one  of  his  fam- 
ily." He  seriously  thought  of  choosing  law  for  his  pro- 
fession. 


28  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1816-1821. 

Meanwhile  a  tour  might  benefit  him.  Or  hurt  him, 
thought  his  aunt,  who  sent  him  counsel  in  reference  to 
travel.  "  I  now  say  for  a  young  man  to  take  a  circui- 
tous, lengthy  Journey  amongst  Strangers,  ignorant  of 
public  Inns,  not  well  acquainted  with  Men  and  Rogues, 
such  as  infest  our  land  at  this  day,  without  much  pros- 
pect of  retaining  or  obtaining  much  for  his  trouble, 
expense,  fatigue,  and  time,  —  in  my  opinion,  I  say,  the 
experience  hereafter  with  the  company  of  some  experi- 
enced friend  would  be  best."  But  he,  having  inherited 
a  little  money,  felt  prodigal,  and  took  his  journey.  It 
lasted  a  month,  cost  him  8109.72,  and  his  far  country 
embraced  New  Haven,  New  York,  Brunswick,  Albany, 
Schoodick,  Northampton,  and  Brattleboro'. 

Then  he  was  back  in  Cambridge,  restless  and  un- 
decided. Another  bit  of  teaching  —  this  time  a  *' Pri- 
vate Grammar  School"  at  Cambridgeport — gave  a  few 
months  more  to  think  the  matter  over.  There  came  a 
last  appeal  from  the  aunt :  — 

"  ^alll  once  more  endeavor  to  lead  yon  in  the  path  of  wis- 
dom? The  blessed  Immauuel  expounded  the  Law  at  twelve 
years  old ;  his  knowledge  was  perfect  then ;  it  was  divine  ex- 
position :  but  are  you  fully  endued  with  knowledge,  mental 
powers,  perception  equal  to  discern  the  divine  scheme,  the 
most  momentous  subject  which  is  held  up  to  mortal  view?  I 
would  tenderly  caution  you  against  your  0]Mnion  upon  God 
and  upon  Man,  untill  you  have  given  yourself  to  prayer,  to 
searching  the  Scriptures,  to  examining  the  fact,  —  are  all 
your  ancestors'  lives  of  diligence,  search,  faith,  piety,  works, 
perseverance,  knowledge,  to  be  set  down  as  vagaries?  No, 
my  Nephew,  the  Influences  of  the  Divinity  you  disbelieve 
were  as  the  Sun  in  mid-day  lighting  their  way  through  the 
lives  of  labor,  sickness,  perplexities  within  and  without,  up  to 
the  realms  where  possibly  They  may  now  be  interceding  in 
your  behalf." 


1816-1821.]  SEEKING   AND  FINDING.  29 

Her  earnest  pleading  did  not  keep  him  from  entering 
the  Divinity  School  at  Cambridge.  His  three  nearest 
friends  among  the  classmates  —  Calvin  Lincoln,  Benja- 
min Kent,  and  William  Henry  Furness  —  were  ab'eady 
there.  He  joined  them,  but  with  a  mind  not  all  made 
np.  Gloomy  hours  were  frequent.  He  was  wont  to 
filially  observe  the  anniversary  of  his  father's  death  : 
but  this  time  —  it  was  in  April,  1821 — the  thought  of 
his  own  future  intruded  to  darken  all  the  memories:  — 

"I  considered  that  I  was  going  into  thfi  world  without 
any  fixed  principles  of  conduct  or  belief,  with  habits  of  indo- 
lence and  procrastination,  and  that  I  was  now  pursuing  a 
course  without  determinate  end,  and  thus  had  not  even  foun- 
dation on  which  I  might  build  hope,  for  I  never  would  preach 
with  such  unsettled  views,  and  could  never  become  a  min- 
ister, as  I  never  could  perform  that  important  part  of  a 
minister's  duty,  —  visiting." 

Still  he  had  resolved  to  study.  None  thought  so 
poorly  of  him  as  himself.  Where  the  heart  felt  faint 
showed  where  the  ideal  was  highest.  He  became,  above 
all  else,  the  "  pastor  "  of  his  people  ;  and,  as  to  prin- 
ciples and  views,  they  were  not  even  then  unsettled. 

According  to  a  Commencement  custom  then  in  vogue, 
the  young  men  graduating  dedicated  sets  of  Latin 
theses  to  the  officials  of  the  State  and  University,  the 
reverend  pastors  of  the  churches,  and  "•  in  short  to  all 
friends  of  education  on  the  earth,  all  patrons  of  the 
cause  of  letters  in  the  Republic,"  —  summary  theses  on 
Logic,  Rhetoric,  Metaphysics,  and  the  like  ;  and,  among 
the  rest,  a  miniature  system  of  Theology,  Natural  and 
Revealed,  The  duty  of  preparing  the  last  fell,  in  his 
class,  to  Gannett,  —  which  suggests  that  the  sermon- 
shadows  were  recognized  by  friends  and  teachers  in 


30  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1816-1821. 

spite  of  his  own  sad  doubts.  Tlie  theses,  as  printed, 
keep  the  discreet  silence  on  disputed  points  becoming 
to  a  college  Senior  in  a  professor's  eyes  ;  but  they,  and 
still  better  his  rough  draft  of  them,  from  which  we 
quote  some  fragments,  reveal  the  position  in  religious 
thought  which  his  mind  had  reached.  He  had  already 
outgrown  the  doctrines  held  by  the  father  and  mother, 
and  was  in  full  sympath}^  with  the  radicalism  and  her- 
esy of  his  day.  But  this  radicalism  had  the  sanction 
of  many  of  the  most  prominent  clergymen  in  and  near 
Boston,  and  was  favored  by  the  prevailing  influence 
at  Harvard.  The  sentences  show  also  how  little  his 
thought  changed  afterwards.  Like  his  father  before 
him,  he  saw  his  vision  early,  and  none  other  ever  seemed 
so  true. 

"  The  seat  of  religion  is  the  heart.  Its  object  is  to  amend 
the  life  by  regulating  the  passions  and  affections.  Love  is 
the  great  principle  which  it  demands,  sincerity  the  duty 
which  it  requires,  and  a  good  life  the  test  which  it  establishes 
of  profession. 

"  The  objects  of  the  last  revelation  from  heaven  were  to 
give  clearer  views  of  the  character  of  God,  to  add  to  the 
motives  for  a  good  life  the  high  sanction  of  a  future  state  of 
rewards  and  punishments,  to  show  a  way  of  salvation  for 
offending  sinners  through  Christ,  and  to  give  in  his  life  a  per- 
fect example  for  our  imitation. 

"  The  evidence  furnished  by  miracles  is  the  highest  which 
can  be  brought  in  proof  of  any  system. 

"  The  sacred  Scriptures  being  the  only  rule  of  faith,  the 
right  of  private  judgment,  in  matters  of  religion,  can  be 
denied  to  no  one. 

"  In  interpreting  Scripture,  we  should  always  be  guided  by 
this  rule,  that  no  article  of  the  Christian  faith,  delivered  in 
the  sacred  Scriptures,  is  contrary  to  right  reason ;  for  rev- 
elation is  only  a  more  complete  reason. 


1816-1821.]  SEEKING  AND  FINDING.  31 

"  Nor  are  we  to  suppose  that  God  would  give  man  a  reve- 
lation to  be  the  guide  of  his  conduct,  both  for  this  and  for  an 
eternal  world,  which  he  could  not  understand,  but  which  lies 
involved  in  mystery. 

"  During  the  dark  ages  of  religion  many  errors  crept  into 
the  Christian  system,  that,  handed  down  by  education  and 
supported  by  the  great  causes  of  prejudice,  authority,  and 
credulity,  have  been  allowed  to  corrupt  the  simplicity  of  the 
gospel. 

"  Thus  we  find  supported,  at  the  present  day,  the  doc- 
trines of  a  Trinity  of  persons  in  the  Deity,  and  of  absolute 
election  :  the  first  of  which  is  not  only  unintelligible,  but 
involves  the  idea  of  three  Gods;  and  the  latter  is  alike  repug- 
nant to  reason  and  the  divine  attributes,  and  is  highly  dan- 
gerous in  its  consequences,  as  authorizing  a  life  of  sin  without 
repentance. 

"  The  doctrine  that  infinite  sin  requires  an  infinite  punish- 
ment or  an  infinite  redemption  rests  upon  the  idea  that  sin 
is.  an  infinite  evil,  because  committed  against  an  infinite 
being:  now  this  is  giving  an  infinite  attribute  to  a  finite 
being ;  and  if  sin  be  infinite  because  it  is  disobedience  to  the 
law  of  an  infinite  being,  then  virtue  is  infinite  because  it  is 
obedience  to  the  same  law;  hence,  man  is  infinitely  sinful 
and  infinitely  virtuous  at  the  same  time,  which  is  absurd. 

"  Bigotry  and  intolerance  are  contrary  to  the  spirit  and 
declarations  of  the  gospel.  Love  to  God  and  love  to  man 
are  the  two  great  commandments.  *  Faith,  hope,  charity; 
but  the  greatest  of  these  is  charity.' " 


CIIANMNG. 


WORCESTER. 


III. 


THE  RISE   OF   UNITARTANISM   IN    NEW 
ENGLAND. 

How  came  the  college  Senior,  liome-brecl  in  Ortho- 
doxy, albeit  a  moderate  Orthodoxy,  to  worship  the  God 
of  his  fathers  thus  distinctly  after  the  manner  which 
they  called  heresy  ?  His  life  was  to  be  so  closely  con- 
nected with  the  young  denomination  then  just  getting 
the  name  '•  Unitarianism,'*  that  in  order  to  know  him 
we  must  understand  it.  We  will  glance  back,  and 
trace  with  some  detail  the  gradual  change  that  had 
come  over  religious  thought  in  the  old  homesteads  of 
the  Puritans.  It  was  the  slow  embryonic  groAvth  of  a 
hundred  and  fifty  years  that  was  at  last  emerging  to 
recognition  and  a  name. 

The  ""  Mayflower "  band,  and  those  who  settled 
Massachusetts  Bay,  were  men  who  felt  themselves  to 
be  in  personal  covenant  with  God,  like  Israel  of  old. 
Their  '*  conversation  w^as  in  lieaven."  In  their  locf- 
houses  they  ''  endured,  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible." 
They  framed  their  state  as  a  temple,  and  invited  the 


UNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND,  66 

Eternal  to  reign  there  over  them.  Then'  state-assembly 
was  likewise  a  church-council.  The  voters  were  all 
church-members,  only  voters  because  members,  only 
citizens  because  "  saints."  The  first  constitution  was 
'-'•  Moses  his  judicials ;  "  the  second  was  drawn  up  by  a 
minister  and  bulwarked  with  Bible  texts  ;  the  third, 
made  by  another  minister,  still  aimed  to  shape  a  strict 
theocracy.  The  Bible  was  a  book  full  to  them  of  God's 
own  literal  language.  Old  Testament  as  well  as  New ; 
and  every  ''  Thus  saith  the  Lord"  therein  gave  a  pat- 
tern by  which  the  General  Court  was  to  model  its 
enactments.  The  meeting-house  was  supported  like 
the  school,  and  before  the  school  or  any  thing  else,  by 
public  tax  ;  and  attendance  was  enforced  by  a  five- 
shillings  fine  for  absence.  The  week  days  were  illu- 
mined like  planets  from  the  Sunday.  The  minister 
was  the  chief  man  in  the  town,  and  next  to  him  the 
deacons.  And  members,  ministers,  Bible,  Church,  and 
State,  all  represented  the  purest  Calvinism.  Not  for 
free  religion,  by  any  means,  had  the  colonists  of  Massa- 
chusetts Bay  come  into  the  wilderness  ;  only  for  free- 
dom to  be  relicrious  themselves  in  their  own  elected 
way.  To  that  end  they  had  spent  their  estates,  ven- 
tured their  lives,  left  their  country  ;  and  therefore  they 
felt  they  had  a  right  to  say  on  what  conditions  new 
men  should  come  into  their  Canaan,  and  who  should 
be  kept  out,  lest  it  be  involved  in  the  religious 
wreck  they  saw  impending  in  the  mother  land.  That 
land  was  full  of  vagrant  religions  begging  and  gesti- 
culating for  followers.  No  sects  and  schisms  here  ! 
The  settlers  of  New  England  held  in  holy  horror  all 
claims  of  private  inspiration  and  ''  inner  lights."  Anti- 
nornians.  Anabaptists,  Quakers,  suffered  exile  from  the 
exiles. 


34  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

But  tlie  age  was  too  vital  for  them.  This  rigid  Puri- 
tanism hardly  outlasted  their  own  gray  heads  and 
dauntless  hearts. 

First  the  ordinances  crumbled.  As  early  as  the 
Synod  of  16G2,  baptism  was  granted  on  a  "half-way  cov- 
enant," and  from  the  civil  government  the  impress  of 
Moses  and  the  ministers  began  to  Avear  away.  Before 
a  second  fifty  j^ears  had  passed  "  the  venerable  Stod- 
dard," of  Northampton,  was  arguing  that,  properly 
regarded,  the  Lord's  Supper  was  a  means  to  regenera- 
tion, not  a  sign  of  grace  attained  ;  and  the  unconverted, 
welcoming  the  idea,  were  pressing  into  full  church-mem- 
bership. 

Then  the  beliefs  began  to  lose  their  sharp  outlines, 
while  sturdy  men  like  the  Mathers  raised  sad  laments 
over  the  decay  of  piety.  By  the  time  that  White- 
field's  revival  flashed  through  the  land,  startling  the 
torpid  parishes  to  "  the  Great  Awakening,"  the  doc- 
trines had  undergone  much  quiet  change.  Just  as 
the  Pilgrims  were  leaving  their  Netherland  retreat, 
their  hearts  had  been  cheered  by  the  decisions  of  Dort ; 
the  Westminster,  and,  later  still,  the  Savoy  Confession, 
had  been  heartily  accepted  in  their  turn.  And  now, — 
it  was  but  1740,  —  in  the  very  landing-places  and 
first  settlements,  the  children's  children,  nor  those 
among  them  who  were  least  in  intellect  and  station, 
found  themselves  turning  away  from  the  views  so  often 
and  so  solemnly  proclaimed. 

"  The  Great  Awakening "  partl}^  made,  in  part  it 
only  marked,  the  crisis  in  the  New  England  Church. 
It  had  most  earnest  advocates.  The  venerable  dogmas, 
galvanized  into  young  vigor,  suddenly  became  as  real 
to  multitudes  as  ever  they  had  been  to  the  forefathers. 
The  churches  filled  and  glowed  with  new-born  mem 


UNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.  35 

bers.  Every  household  had  a  man  or  woman  in  it  who 
had  felt  the  touch  of  God,  and  could  tell  the  story  of 
that  wondrous  touch.  Not  a  few  ministers  confessed 
that  for  the  first  time  they  knew  what  religion  meant. 
But,  after  a  while,  the  revival  had  earnest  opponents 
also.  If  Jonathan  Edwards  harvested  half  its  fruits  by 
leading  many  churches  back  to  the  strict  terms  of  mem- 
bership, in  other  minds  Calvinism  died  the  speedier 
death  at  sight  of  the  old  creed  freshly  wielded  and 
the  itinerant  enthusiasts,  whose  preaching  split  the  par- 
ishes and  produced  strange  physical  excesses  in  their 
hearers.  These  Protestants  discovered  that  their  thought 
had  almost  given  place  to  what  had  long  borne  that 
name  of  dread,  —  Arminianism  !  Yea,  a  word  of  far 
deeper  horror  even  had  been  pronounced,  —  Socinian- 
ism !  The  religious  genius  of  New  England,  in  quiet 
exile  among  the  Stockbridge  Indians,  began  to  write 
his  famous  books  to  stem  the  rising  tide  of  rationalism. 
"  Within  seven  years  the  dangerous  doctrines  have 
made  vastly  more  progress  than  ever  before  in  the 
same  space,"  he  says  ;  and,  while  Edwards  was  thus 
writing,  some  New  Hampshire  ministers  improved  the 
Catechism  by  leaving  out  the  Calvinism. 

The  new  names,  however,  were  very  vaguely  used. 
"  Arminianism "  covered  tlie  whole  growing  emphasis 
in  behalf  of  man's  free-will  and  moral  responsibility  and 
power  to  win  salvation,  and  of  God's  impartial  love. 
It  covered  therefore  many  degrees  of  dissent  from  Cal- 
vinism. No  division  in  the  Church  was  dreamed  of  yet. 
Only,  from  the  mid-century  onward,  two  parties  were 
recognized  in  Orthodoxy,  and  they  were  felt  to  be 
diverging  more  and  more  from  one  another. 

The  Calvinists  made  one  party.  But  they  within 
themselves  were  not  long  one.     While  some  remained 


36  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

loyal  to  the  old  meanings  of  the  creed,  a  more  moderate 
class,  the  ''  Hopkinsian  Calvinists,"  appeared  under  the 
impulse  of  Edwards's  somewhat  novel  teaching  and 
that  of  his  disciples  Bellamy  and  Hopkins ;  and  these 
grew  numerous,  as  the  latter  half  of  the  century  went 
by.  Abiding  by  the  substance  of  the  creed,  they  in- 
sisted that  they  had  bettered  its  interpretation.  The 
bolder  features  of  Imputation  —  actual  transfer  of 
Adam's  guilt  and  of  Christ's  righteousness  to  the  sin- 
ner —  were  disclaimed.  Yet  Total  Depravity  was  still 
total  and  innate,  though  man  by  nature  was  only  ''  mor- 
ally," not  ''physically,"  unable  to  will  holiness,  —  what- 
ever that  may  really  mean.  The  Vicarious  Atonement, 
still  vicarious,  was  explained  no  longer  as  a  mere  ran- 
som of  war,  a  bare  exchange  of  victims.  The  honor  of 
God's  moral  government,  it  now  was  said,  required  that 
penalty  should  surely  follow  sin,  but  not  that  it  should 
necessarily  fall  upon  the  sinner.  Christ  bore  the  penalty 
for  us,  and  thus  made  a  universal  forgiveness  morally 
possible  to  God.  Election  and  Reprobation  were  Elec- 
tion and  Reprobation  still,  but  had  shifted  their  place 
from  before  to  after,  this  Atonement :  God,  in  using  his 
opportunity  of  mercy,  elected  to  salvation  only  whom 
he  pleased,  and,  calling  these  by  his  Holy  Spirit,  left 
the  rest  to  that  native  inability  which  simply  made 
their  eternal  agony  sure. 

Meanwhile,  the  other  party,  the  Arminians,  were 
dejimtely  giving  up  the  historic  "points"  of  Calvin- 
ism; nor  these  alone,  —  they  had  begun  to  doubt  the 
Vicarious  Atonement  and  even  the  Divinity  of  Christ. 
Their  movement  was  very  quiet  and  gradual.  Not 
every  year,  but  every  ten  years,  marked  the  progress 
of  their  minds.  Nov/  and  then,  some  thinker  in  advance 
of  his  brethren  broke  the  stillness  with  a  slighting  word ; 


UNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND  37 

now  and  then,  some  clear-sighted  old  believer  raised  a 
cry  of  warning.  But,  in  general,  the  sceptics  hardly 
knew  what  they  did  think  so  well  as  what  they  did 
not  think.  Their  thought  was  plainly  not  the  fathers' 
thought,  —  but  what  did  the  Bible  really  say?  That 
was  the  great  question  now.  Were  the  venerated  doc- 
trines there,  after  all  ?  Many  a  Massachusetts  minister, 
in  the  quiet  of  his  study,  bent  over  the  holy  book  with 
his  ten  fingers  between  the  leaves,  drawing  up  lists  of 
texts  on  this  side  and  on  that,  trying  to  focus  the  rays 
of  Bible  light  into  one  clear  word. 

Slowly  two  special  emphases  grew  louder.  The  first 
was.  Few  fundamentals  in  religion.  The  second,  No 
human  creeds  —  only  Bible  words  are  fit  to  phrase  the 
Bible  mysteries.  Could  man  improve  on  God's  own 
language  ?  it  was  asked.  No  human  explanations  of 
that  language  should  be  deemed  essential  to  Christian- 
ity. On  these  grounds  the  seekers  took  their  stand 
with  increasing  boldness  against  the  use  of  creeds  as 
tests  of  Orthodoxy,  and  this  stand  began  to  mark  them 
off  as  "  Liberals  "  in  opposition  to  the  "  Evangelicals  ;  " 
such  presently  became  the  party  names. 

Jonathan  Mayhew,  pastor  of  the  "  West  Church," 
was  the  freest  preacher  in  Boston.  The  city  ministers 
had  declined  to  assist  at  his  ordination,  and  he  did  not 
join  their  "  Association,"  but  set  up  his  own  week-day 
*'  Lecture."  His  thought  was  more  precise,  and  his 
Avords  more  clearly  matched  his  thought,  than  was  com- 
mon at  that  time  in  the  pulpits.  Where  his  brethren 
disapproved,  he  denounced,  creed-making ;  where  they 
practised  the  right  of  private  judgment  in  religion,  he 
strenuously  urged  the  duty  ;  where  they  disbelieved,  he 
boldly  denied,  the  doctrines  of  total  depravity  and  jus- 
tification by  mere  faith.     His  rashest  thing  he  did  in 


88  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

1755,  —  in  a  volume  of  sermons  he  ventured  to  insert  a 
fine-print  note  that  slurred  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 
At  the  unprecedented  act  a  little  breeze  of  rejoinders 
sprang  up  among  the  Boston  clergy..  But  jNlayhew  was 
not  quite  alone.  Two  older  men,  Dr.  Chauncy  of  "  First 
Church"  —  he  had  led  the  onset  against  Whitefield  — 
and  Dr.  Gay  of  Hingham  —  the  one  spoken  of  above  as 
having  preached  Caleb  Gannett's  ordination  sermon  — 
were  also  recognized  as  leaders  of  the  Liberal  movement. 
President  John  Adams,  when  an  old  man,  declared  that 
several  ministers  besides  them,  and  many  laymen  in  all 
ranks  of  life,  were  Unitarians  as  earl}^  as  1750.  But  in 
1750  that  was  a  secret  probably  unrealized  even  to  them- 
selves. The  chief  outward  sign  of  the  changing  thought 
was  the  silent  withdrawal  of  the  doubted  doctrines  from 
the  pulpit,  or,  when  they  did  appear  there,  their  careful 
retreat  into  Bible  phrases.  Another  sign  was  that  broad 
toleration  was  distinctly  advocated  in  ordination  and 
convention  sermons ;  another,  that,  at  ordinations  in 
and  around  Boston,  the  ministers  often  abstained  from 
examining  a  candidate  about  his  Orthodoxy ;  another, 
that  the  books  of  Emlyn,  Clarke,  and  Taylor,  three  Eng- 
lish Unitarian  leaders,  were  in  circulation ;  and  still 
another,  that  the  Evangelicals  were  alarmed,  and  grew 
more  definite  themselves,  and  a-lready  began  to  charge 
the  Liberals  with  evasion. 

The  first  church  that  was  willing  to  bear  the  open 
reproach  of  Unitarianism  was,  after  all,  not  Congrega- 
tional, but  Episcopalian,  —  an  alien  in  New  England,  — 
"the  King's  Chapel"  in  Boston;  perhaps,  because  it 
was  an  alien.  The  position  of  dissent  from  an  estab- 
lished church  naturally  makes  men  bold,  and  here  Epis- 
copalianism  was  the  Dissent.  Moreover,  the  war  for 
Independence  was  not  yet  over,  and  the  ties  to  the 


UNITARTANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.  39 

motlier-chnrcli  were  somewhat  loosened  when  James 
Freeman  was  invited  to  become  reader  at  the  Chapel. 
He  felt  himself  to  be  in  perfect  sj^mpath}^  with  the 
Liberal  sentiments  aronnd  him ;  but  while  the  Congre- 
gational ministers  could  quietly  change  their  Trinitarian 
doxologies  to  a  Bible  phrase,  and  leave  out  all  the  Atha- 
nasianism  from  their  sermons,  and  be  ordained  without 
subscribing  any  creed,  he  found  his  conscience  tripped 
b}^  the  dogmas  in  the  Prayer  Book  Avhich  he  was  ex- 
pected to  read.  The  revolutionary  spirit  w^as  abroad,  and 
the  Chapel  proprietors.  Liberals  as  w^ell  as  he,  promptly 
authorized  him  to  purge  the  Liturgy  of  what  he  dis- 
believed. And  then,  as  they  loved  him,  and  as  no 
bishop  Avould  lay  ordaining  hand  on  the  young  heretic, 
the}^  themselves  gave  him  a  Bible  instead,  and  thereby 
made  him  the  first  avowedly  Unitarian  minister,  and 
their  church  the  first  Unitarian  Church,  in  America. 
This  ordination  happened  in  1787.  There  were  other 
Episcopalian  congregations  in  the  States  at  this  time 
not  very  far  behind  in  Liberal  ideas ;  "  but,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  King's  Chapel,  which  had  been  hasty  in  its 
honesty,  the  body  relapsed  into  quietude." 

Across  the  sea  in  London,  Mr.  Lindsey  had  lately 
tried  a  similar  experiment.  To  him,  as  to  a  sympathetic 
listener.  Freeman  tells  his  whole  story :  that  he  did  not 
venture  to  alter  quite  as  much  as  he  would  have  liked 
to,  and  that  the  public  at  first  were  shy,  but  soon  ap- 
proved the  change  ;  that  Priestley's  and  Lindsey's  books 
were  being  read,  and  many  ministers  had  lately  given 
up  the  Trinitarian  doxology ;  that  there  was  only  one  ^ 
minister  in  New  England  who  openly  preached  "  the 
Socinian  scheme,"  although  ''  there  are  many  churches 
in  which  the  worship  is  strictly  Unitarian,"  and  some  of 
New  England's  most  eminent  laymen  did  not  hesitate  to 

1  That  one  was  Freeman's  classmate.  Rev.  Wm.  Bentley,  of  Salem,  a  very 
learned  man  and  verv  bold,  of  whom  Edward  Everett  sai<l  in  the  sermon  at  his 
funeral,  "  He  dared  to  speak  what  others  did  not  dare  to  think."    As  a  '•  Human- 


40  EZRA    STILES   GAXXETT. 

avow  their  creed.  A  little  later,  in  1796,  he  writes: 
''  There  are  a  niimLer  of  ministers  who  avow  and  preach 
their  sentiments,  while  there  are  others,  more  cautious, 
who  content  themselves  with  leading  their  hearers,  hy  a 
course  of  rational  but  prudent  sermons,  gradually  and 
insensibly  to  embrace  it.  Though  the  latter  mode  is  not 
what  I  entirely  approve,  yet  it  produces  good  effects." 

Opinion  was  plainly  ripening.  When  the  year  1800 
came,  the  First  Church  at  Plymouth,  the  very  church  of 
the  ''Mayflower"  men,  Avas  just  about  to  break  in  two, 
because  a  Liberal  was  to  be  settled.  There  were  nine 
Congregational  churches  in  Boston,  and  in  every  one 
minister  and  people  were  deeply  infected  with  the  heresy. 
The  Old  South  was  probably  the  most  Orthodox,  yet 
even  Joseph  Eckley,  its  pastor,  "  hesitated  to  affirm  the 
entire  equality  of  the  Father  and  the  Son."  The  two 
most  important  features  of  Boston  thought  at  this  time 
were  the  certainty  of  the  decay,  not  only  of  Calvinism, 
but  of  Trinitarianism,  and  the  vagueness  of  the  new 
growth  that  was  emerging.  "  He  was  classed  with  Lib- 
erals ;  "  "he  avoided  controversial  subjects  in  the  pul- 
pit ;  "  "  the  type  of  his  Unitarianism  was  unknown  ;  " 
"  he  was  probably  an  Arian  :  "  such  expressions  abound 
in  Sprague's  Annals  of  the  early  Unitarian  worthies  of 
Massachusetts,  —  the  elders  who  passed  away,  while 
their  younger  brethren  were  accepting  the  new  name 
and  defining  their  heresy.  And,  in  this  on-growth  from 
the  faith  of  the  fathers,  Boston  was  by  no  means  alone. 
The  otlier  large  towns  of  the  State,  first-born  of  Puritan- 
ism, sliowed  a  similar  spectacle.  Of  two  hundred  Con- 
gregational churches  east  of  Worcester  County,  at  this 
time,  not  more  than  two  in  five  were  under  Evangelical 
ministr}^  says  the  Orthodox  historian  of  those  churches. 

itarian,"  liis  welcome  was  restricted  even  among  the  Liberal  pulpits.  But,  as  in 
Freeman's  case,  his  own  people  stood  by  him:  in  1785,  two  years  after  his  ordina- 
tion, tlie  church  and  society  unanimously  voted  to  make  him  their  sole  preacher, 
—  his  elder  colleague,  who  was  an  ultra-CaJvinist,  retiring  with  a  pension. 


UNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.  41 

This  cultured  Liberalism  of  Massachusetts  was  the 
most  important,  but  was  not  the  only,  phase  of  the 
revolt  from  Calvinism.  It  was  not  even  the  most  dis- 
tinct. In  periods  of  changing  thought  the  vigor  of  out- 
spoken dissent  is  seldom  found  in  the  cultured  classes 
and  the  regular  churches.  Wholly  outside  of  college 
influence  a  much  more  uncompromising  heresy  upstarted 
in  three  different  forms  during  the  last  years  of  the 
century. 

Ever  since  the  Revolution  there  had  been  rough-and- 
ready  thinkers  in  the  land,  who,  over  a  work -bench 
perhaps,  or  after  farm-chores  were  done,  talked  sharp 
common-sense  about  the  current  faith,  —  men  who  wel- 
comed bits  from  Voltaire,  and  presently  were  reading 
Tom  Paine's  "  Age  of  Reason  "  with  keen  relish.  At 
the  opposite  extreme  also  of  society,  there  were  a  few 
suspected  Free-thinkers  who  thought  to  some  good  pur- 
pose. To  their  lack  of  Orthodoxy  the  National  Constitu- 
tion largely  owes  its  principle  of  religious  liberty.  But, 
all  told,  these  village  infidels  and  their  high-bred  cousins 
were  not  many  ;  and  indignant  neighbors  could  afford  to 
shrug  their  shoulders  at  them  and  pass  by. 

Other  critics,  more  enthusiastic,  and  therefore  more 
exasperating,  were  abroad.  Here  and  there  a  Baptist 
''  member  "  broke  out  in  condemnation  of  Election  and 
Eternal  Punishment,  and  forced  a  hearing  about  his 
county  for  the  gospel  of  Universal  Salvation.  No 
Deists  or  Free-thinkers  these.  Rather  they  out-evan- 
gelized the  Evangelicals.  It  Avas  text  against  text 
between  the  two.  The  bright  promise  was  only  prom- 
ise because  most  literally  spelled  out  from  words  of 
Revelation.  At  first  their  revolt  was  purely  of  the, 
heart,  not  of  the  head.  English  Mr.  Murray  founded 
"  Universalism  "  on  the  doctrine  of  vicarious  atonement ; 


42  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

and  next  to  him  in  fame  among  the  early  preachers  was 
Winchester.  Both  were  Trinitarian  and  Orthodox 
enough,  save  on  the  point  that  the  Bible  pledged  sal- 
vation unto  all.  In  the  enthusiasm  of  this  one  discovery, 
a  few  itinerants  went  about,  mainly  through  the  country- 
side and  among  the  common  people,  gathering  little 
groups  of  open  dissenters.  These  Universalists  were 
men  of  a  different  stamp  from  the  Boston  Liberals,  — 
less  cultured,  more  direct.  Murray  came  to  New  Eng- 
land just  before  the  war;  and  before  the  end  of  the 
century  the  scattered  country-groups  had  met  time  and 
again  in  General  Convention,  had  assumed  a  name,  and 
publicly  organized  themselves  as  a  new  sect.  Nor  was 
this  all.  Under  their  eager  scanning,  more  truth  broke 
out  from  the  Bible  Word.  Their  faith  in  the  doctrines 
of  the  Trinity  and  the  Atonement  speedily  began  to 
waver  ;  and,  soon  after  1800,  at  the  impulse  of  a  few 
outspoken  men,  both  ideas  were  discarded  by  the 
majority  of  the  denomination. 

The  story  of  the  ''  Christians  "  runs  back  to  the  same 
time,  and  repeats  that  of  the  Universalists.  Theirs 
was  another  rebellion  of  the  common-sense  of  country 
people  against  the  arbitrary  dogmatism  and  violence 
of  the  ruling  Orthodoxy,  —  another  going  forth  of  un- 
taught missionaries  to  preach  a  purer,  tenderer  Bible 
faith.  They  originated  independently  among  the 
Baptists  in  New  England,  among  Presbyterians  in 
the  Middle  States,  among  Methodists  in  the  South. 
"  Christian  "  was  the  simple  name  they  took.  Oppo- 
sition to  sectarianism  was  their  reason  for  existence. 
Scripture,  and  individual  liberty  to  interpret  Scripture, 
were  their  two  fundamentals.  When  they  first  broke 
away,  they  also  were  still  the  Trinitarians  they  had 
been  ;  but  search  in  the  Book  with  eyes  unsealed  again 
led  to  a  rejection  of  the  Trinity  and  all  the   cognate 


UNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.  43 

thought.  They  differed  from  the  Universalists  only  by 
faihng  to  find  and  insist  on  the  doctrine  of  final  restitu- 
tion, and  from  the  Boston  Liberals  by  being  more  evan- 
gelical, less  rationalistic,  in  their  tendency. 

Here,  then,  were  the  Liberals,  the  Free-thinkers,  the 
Universalists,  the  "  Christians,"  —  no  band  of  brethren, 
yet  all  companions  in  revolt.  If  we  recall  the  popularity 
of  the  Hopkinsian  views  among  the  Orthodox  them- 
selves, it  would  be  true  to  say  that,  at  the  meeting  of 
the  centuries,  a  very  large  part  of  New  England's  faith 
was  undergoing  change,  and  change  in  one  direction. 
For  even  the  Hopkinsian  modifications,  though  compara- 
tively slight,  showed  a  degree  of  yielding  to  the  same 
rationalistic  spirit.  They  certainly  rounded  the  sharp 
points  of  Calvinism,  and  softened,  them  into  that  mystic 
state  which  renders  spring-growth  again  possible  in 
long  rigid  dogmas.  Their  effect  was,  therefore,  partly 
good  for  Orthodoxy,  because  they  served  to  keep  some 
of  the  restless  in  the  old  allegiance.  But  only  in 
part ;  for,  like  the  Great  Revival  in  which  they  had 
their  origin,  they  inspired  preachers  to  urge  home 
with  all  the  ardor  •  of  a  new  conviction  those  gen- 
eral ideas  which  now,  in  any  form,  were  foolishness 
to  many  minds  and  horror  to  so  many  hearts.  At  the 
close  of  the  Revolution  three  parties  were  well  marked 
off  from  one  another,  —  Old  Calvinists,  these  Moderate 
Calvinists,  and  the  Liberals.  But  as  the  Liberal  ten- 
dencies, in  one  form  and  another,  grew  more  pronounced, 
the  two  schools  of  Orthodoxy  tended  to  join  forces  again, 
and  the  Hopkinsian  theories  gradually  prevailed.  A 
little  later,  a  home  was  built  for  them  at  Andover. 
Eventually  they  became  what  is  known  to-day  as  the 
"  New  England  Theology."  The  stronghold  of  the 
older,  stricter  Calvinism  was  the  Presbyterian  Church 


44  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT. 

outside  of  New  England.  With  it  the  change  was 
always  most  unpopular,  and  the  New  York  and  New 
Jersey  clergy  hurled  many  of  the  same  hard  words  at 
New  England  Orthodoxy  which  the  Ncav  England 
Orthodox  lavished  on  the  rising  Unitarians.  ''The 
new  Hopkinsian  light/'  they  said,  was  darkness  ;  its 
''  improvements "  of  Calvinism  were  nonsense,  were 
impiety,  —  they  led  to  infidelity  and  atheism  ;  the  New 
England  Evangelicals  taught  "  another  gospel,"  whereas 
"  the  Avay  of  salvation  was  one,"  and  that  of  course  was 
the  old  Calvinistic  path. 

And  now  the  time  drew  near  when  the  hard  words 
were  to  be  hurled.  Young  Channing  had  just  come  to 
Boston,  and  scarcely  made  his  second  round  of  parish  calls, 
when  certain  Orthodox  men  leaped  to  their  feet  with 
indignation.  Not  at  Channing  yet,  but  because  Har- 
vard College  had  appointed  Henry  Ware  to  the  vacant 
professorship  of  Divinity.  Harvard  College,  —  founded 
by  the  fathers  "  for  Christ  and  the  Church  "  !  Henry 
Ware,  known  to  be  Arminian,  suspected  of  being  Arian ! 
And  in  a  chair  established  by  the  terms  of  the  old 
bequest  for  a  teacher  "  sound  or  Orthodox  "I  It  was 
too  true.  The  Liberals  had  already  firm  possession  of 
the  College ;  and  this  was  one  of  those  cases  that 
always  must  seem  unjust  to  the  neighbors  who  in- 
herit the  old  faith  in  its  pristine  purity,  or,  rather, 
least  unchanged  from  pristine  purity,  —  one  of  those 
cases  that  must  arise  until  people  believe  in  evolution 
in  religion,  and  in  their  bequests  allow  for  nature's 
fact  of  growth.  The  Liberals  had  possession  of  the 
College,  but  they  had  obtained  it  by  no  intrigue.  From 
the  first  the  College  had  descended  in  trust  along  the 
line  of  Massachusetts  culture.  By  that  title  of  culture, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  century,  the   Liberals  held  it 


UNITARIANISM  IN  NET/  ENGLAND.  45 

fast.  Both  in  the  Corporation  and  among  the  Overseers 
they  now  were  in  majority,  —  no  new-comers,  but  men 
who  bore  old  names  familiar  in  the  State  for  generations. 
Only  a  few  years  after  Ware's  election  they  called  Kirk- 
land  from  a  Boston  pulpit  to  be  the  President,  and 
Kirkland  was  one  of  the  most  advanced  of  the  silent 
brotherhood.  Yet,  after  all,  as  to  theological  position, 
Willard,  Webber,  Kirkland,  made  a  not  unnatural 
succession.  For  Willard  (1781-1804)  was,  ''on  the 
whole,  a  moderate  Evangelical,"  and  Webber  (1806- 
1810)  was  "  probably  Unitarian."  Dr.  Kirkland's 
friends  soon  took  steps  to  organize  at  Cambridge  a 
Liberal  Divinity  School. 

From  Ware's  appointment  onwards,  the  magazines 
afford  best  tracking-ground  for  those  who  care  to  follow 
the  movement  of  thought.  There  was  a  club  then  in 
Boston  in  which  much  of  the  younger  Liberal  intellect 
was  concentrated,  —  the  "  Anthology  Club."  William 
Emerson,  father  of  the  son ;  Buckminster,  the  wondrous 
pulpit  boy,  whose  eloquence  and  novel  passion  for 
Bible  criticism  gave  him  more  than  a  grown  man's  use ; 
Thacher,  the  Harr}'-  Percy  of  the  band  ;  Tuckerman, 
with  his  skilled  philanthropy  yet  to  ripen  ;  and  Kirk- 
land ;  Gardiner,  too,  of  Trinity  Church,  —  were  among  its 
minister  members.  With  them  were  joined  certain  law- 
yers and  physicians,  then  before  their  fame,  whose  names 
have  long  been  reverent  memories  to  us  ;  and  two  whose 
time-worn  faces  have  hardly  ceased  to  bless  the  Boston 
streets.  Choice  spirits  were  they  all,  so  choice  that  the 
ladies  of  Boston  village  did  not  invite  company  on  the 
Anthology  evening,  because  the  Club  meeting  had  their 
rarest  gentlemen.  The  Club  had  a  literary  magazine 
(1804-1811),  the  beginning  of  the  five-linked  chain  of 
Liberal  mafrazines  of  which  "  Old  and  New  "  is  the  last 


46  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT. 

link.  Its  theological  attitude  was  definite  as  to  Anti- 
Calvinism,  but  non-committal  about  the  Trinity.  Now 
and  then  a  sharp  article  against  the  Orthodox  appeared ; 
as  when  young  Thacher  wrote  about  the  Andover  School 
just  established  with  a  creed  skilfully  drawn  up  to 
smooth  over  the  differences  between  the  old  and  the  new 
Calvinism,  —  a  creed  which  "  it  is  solemnly  enjoined 
shall  for  ever  remain  entirely  and  identically  the  same, 
without  the  least  alteration,  addition,  or  diminution," 
and  be  repeated  anew  by  the  professors  every  five  years. 
He  retorted  the  charge  of  evasion  which  the  Evangeli- 
cals were  now  loudly  pressing  against  the  Liberals. 
''  This  we  believe,"  he  said,  "  to  be  the  first  instance  on 
record  of  a  creed  being  originally  formed  with  a  designed 
ambiguity  of  meaning,  with  the  express  intention  of  per- 
mitting men  of  different  opinions  to  sign  it."  Presently 
he  made  an  earnest  plea  for  Liberal  propagandism,  be- 
cause he  saw  that  "  a  theological  combat  was  preparing, 
with  fanaticism,  ignorance,  and  credulity  hurrying  to 
the  fight."  Then  he  renewed  the  attack  upon  the  creed- 
makers,  urging  the  point  of  Dr.  Porter's  startling  Con- 
vention sermon,  —  that  the  sole  fundamental  of  Christian 
belief  laid  down  in  the  New  Testament  was  the  confes- 
sion, "  Jesus  is  the  Christ."  Kirkland  also  threw  some 
closely  packed  sentences  of  satire  against  the  weak  spots 
of  Calvinism,  and  even  ventured  to  sketch  the  argument 
against  the  doctrine  of  Christ's  divinity.  All  this,  how- 
ever, was  anonymous.  The  circle,  not  the  individuals, 
appeared  in  the  "  Anthology." 

A  bolder  Review  succeeded  it,  the  ''  General  Reposi- 
tory" (1812-1813),  edited  by  Andrews  Norton,  then  a 
young  man,  who  was  born  to  be  a  "  defender  of  the 
faith."  Taking  *'  Nee  temere,  nee  timide^''  for  his  motto, 
he  boldly  wrote   for   his   first   article  a   "  Defence   of 


UNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.  47 

Liberal  Christianity."  A  small  but  able  band  of  scholars 
helped  him,  Buckminster  and  Edward  Everett  among 
them.  By  one  or  another,  the  common-sense,  the  his- 
torical, and  the  Scriptural  arguments  against  the  dogma 
of  the  Trinity  were  set  plainly  forth.  Like  all  radi- 
cal magazines,  however,  the  "Anthology"  and  "  Re- 
pository" were  "caviare  to  the  general."  Each  New 
Year's  Day  the  editors,  in  a  fresh  preface,  gallantly 
hugged  each  other  before  the  public  over  the  quality, 
which,  they  said,  made  good  the  lacking  quantity,  of 
favor. 

Channing  and  some  of  his  friends  desired  a  different 
tone  from  Norton's,  and  the  "  Christian  Disciple  "  (1813- 
1823)  was  next  born.  *'  Speaking  the  truth  in  love  " 
was  its  motto ;  and  Noah  Worcester,  the  author  of 
"  Bible  News,"  but  soon  to  win  his  title  of  "  Apostle  of 
Peace,"  was  editor.  It  was  so  very  peaceful  that  from 
its  pages  one  would  never  divine  that  the  great  dis- 
closure of  Unitarianism  occurred  just  after  its  advent. 
The  little  controversy  it  contained  was  with  Calvinism, 
and  its  worst  offence  in  this  direction  was  simply  to 
note  the  mutations  within  Orthodoxy  itself,  as  shown 
by  the  dispute  between  the  Old-School  and  the  New- 
School  Calvinists,  —  a  dispute  so  bitter  in  New  York 
about  this  time  that  there  was  "  some  reason  for  saying 
that  Boston  is  the  temperate,  and  New  York  the  torrid, 
zone  of  ecclesiastical  controversy."  The  subject  of  the 
Trinity  was  scarcely  mentioned  by  the  "  Disciple,"  and 
the  name  "  Unitarianism  "  as  rarely.  Its  one  constant 
emphasis  was  for  practical  religion  and  Christian  char- 
ity and  the  open  mind,  and  against  the  use  of  creeds 
and  sectarian  exclusiveness.  But  the  mao^azine  was  too 
tame  for  the  stirring  times  after  "  the  controversy  "  be- 
gan ;  and  it  languished  until  it  changed  its  editor  and 


48  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT. 

tone,  and  stood  distinctly  for  ideas  as  well  as  a  holy 
spirit. 

In  other  ways  the  heresy  was  taking  shape  and  size, 
—  taking  every  thing  except  a  name.  Books  were  writ- 
ten :  notably,  Ballon 's  Universalist  '*  Treatise  on  the 
Atonement,"  in  1805  ;  "  probably  the  first  book  pub- 
lished in  this  country  that  advocated  the  strict  unity  of 
God,  and  views  accordant  therewith," —  and  Worcester's 
"  Bible  News  of  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,"  which 
a  little  later  startled  all  New  England,  and  ruffled 
circles  where  reasons  against  the  Trinity  had  never 
broken  in  before.  Emerson  and  Buckminster  printed  a 
hymn-book  which  had  Pope's  "  Universal  Prayer  "  in 
it.  Still  worse,  an  improved  version  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, garnished  with  Unitarian  notes  by  its  English 
editors,  was  reprinted  here.  The  Orthodox  saw  in  its 
welcome  the  worst  of  omens ;  and  Dr.  Mason,  a  Pres- 
byterian divine  of  New  York,  described  it  as  ''the 
amended  Bible  which  the  Iscariot  bands  of  professed 
Christianity  are  laboring  to  thrust  into  the  hands  of  the 
simple,  —  straining  into  the  cup  of  salvation  the  venom 
of  Socinian  blasphemy."  Through  the  Annual  Conven- 
tion sermons,  also,  the  heresy  flowed  and  ebbed,  accord- 
ing to  the  preacher's  theological  position.  One  year  the 
"few  fundamentals"  would  be  pointed  out  to  the  as- 
sembled ministers ;  by  the  next,  the  sea  of  charity  had 
shrunk  away,  and  all  the  old  rocks  stood  bare  again. 

Meanwhile,  in  these  dozen  years  of  rapid  Liberal 
growth,  the  Orthodox  were  far  from  idle.  Eyes  were 
open  to  the  danger ;  troops  were  marching  ;  the  muster 
before  the  onset  had  begun.  Dr.  Morse  of  Charles- 
town,  he  of  the  Geograph}^  was  the  first  Orthodox 
champion  to  take  the  field  and  strive  to  rally  the  Puritan 
feeling  around  "  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints." 


UNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.  49 

He  set  up  a  magazine,  the  "  Panoplist,"  that  proved  a 
doughty  man-at-arms,  confrontmg  each  Liberal  en- 
croachment, watching  on  the  walls  of  Zion,  and  chal- 
lenging the  suspected  heretics  to  declare  themselves. 
In  long  reviews  of  the  condition  of  the  New  England 
Church,  it  laid  bare  the  secret  decay  that  was  eating 
away  the  old  discipline  and  doctrine.  The  Andover 
School  in  1808  made  another  strong  barrier ;  and  the 
next  year  Park  Street  Church  was  built,  professedly  to 
give  asylum  to  high  Orthodoxy  in  the  midst  of  the 
enemy.  In  Connecticut  and  New  Hampshire,  where 
the  hand  of  Orthodoxy  was  stronger  than  in  Massachu- 
setts, two  or  three  country  ministers  lost  their  pulpits 
for  the  heresy.  Certain  Evangelicals  near  Boston  began 
to  decline  exchanges  with  their  Liberal  brethren,  caus- 
ing much  hurt  feeling  thereby.  Church-breaks  occurred 
in  New  Bedford,  Sandwich,  and  Dorchester.  Then 
came  a  proposition  which  filled  the  Boston  men  with 
indignation.  Connecticut  had  crushed  out  the  germ 
of  heresy  by  her  Consociations,  and  the  Presbyterians 
beyond  New  England  by  their  Synods  and  Assembly. 
And  now  a  jjlan  was  strenuously  urged  by  Dr.  Morse 
and  his  friends  to  set  up  similar  ecclesiastical  tribunals 
in  Massachusetts ;  but  for  that  our  Congregationalists 
were  not  readj^  Massachusetts  owes  much  to  the 
escape. 

The  cri«is  was  close  at  hand.  No  name  but  "  Liberal 
or  Rational  Christianity  "  was  acknowledged  by  the 
Boston  ministers  ;  but  it  was  known  through  the  city 
and  the  State  that  they  thought  things  they  did  not 
preach,  and  had  no  objection  to  each  other's  parlor 
heresies.  "  It  is  the  prevailing  idea,  all  over  the  United 
States,  that  the  clergy  of  Boston  are  little  better  than 
deists,"  writes  Buckminst^r,  one  of  their  number,  in 

4 


50  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

1809.  Country  parsons  and  strangers  visiting  Boston 
would  attend  the  churches,  or  listen  at  the  "  Associ- 
ation meetmgs,"  or  the  "  Thursday  lecture,"  or  the  Col- 
lege Commencement,  with  ears  wary  for  the  ambushed 
heresy ;  and  sometimes  compared  notes  afterwards,  or 
told  at  country  firesides  that  they  had  heard  a  service 
with  no  word  of  Christ's  divinity  or  his  atonement  in 
it.  But  it  was  seldom  or  never  possible  to  say  that  they 
had  heard  denial  of  these  doctrines. 

The  refusal  of  the  Unitarian  name  was  one  thing : 
this  silence  was  another.  For  refusing  that  name  there 
was  a  special  and  good  reason.  It  was  already  so  ap- 
propriated by  the  English  Unitarians  as  to  be  commonly 
identified  with  their  Socinian,  i.e.  humanitarian,  view  of 
Christ,  —  a  view  which  few  in  New  England  had  at 
that  time  reached.  The  great  majority  here  were  of  the 
Arian  type :  Christ  to  them  was  a  being  between  God 
and  man,  higher  than  all  archangels.  And  they  felt  it 
was  a  great  injustice  and  untruth  to  confound  them 
with  the  followers  of  Priestley.  Therefore,  when  the 
Orthodox  called  Dr.  Ware  at  his  election  a  Unitarian, 
his  friends  could  truly  say  it  was  a  calumny ;  and  five 
years  later  Thacher  could  call  that  name  "  a  flower  of 
rhetoric."  No  doubt,  too,  many  still  were  Liberal  by 
tendency  rather  than  by  clear  decision.  But,  when  all 
such  allowance  has  been  made,  there  can  be  as  little 
doubt  that  from  1800  there  was  a  conscious  silence  on 
the  part  of  Liberals  about  their  thought  after  that 
thought  was  pretty  definite  in  their  own  minds.  The 
quick  side-taking  when  the  issue  was  forced  showed  the 
real  ripeness  of  opinion.  Channing  and  Thacher  then 
expressly  admitted  the  previous  silence,  and  defended 
it.  Other  Liberals  admitted  and  excused  it.  Still 
others  admitted  and  rebuked  it.     It  was  the  universal 


UNITARTANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.  51 

impression  of  the  Orthodox,  the  theme  of  common  talk 
among  them.  Their  charge  of  "concealment"  was 
afterwards  denied ;  but,  when  the  Orthodox  for  ten 
years  were  restlessly  questioning,  silence  practically  was 
concealment.  The  motives  for  it  were,  and  may  be, 
variously  construed.  It  was  attributed  to  self-denial, 
Christian  charity,  intellectual  humility,  prudence,  policy, 
temporizing,  cowardice,  hypocrisy.  Individuals — Chan- 
ning  and  Thacher,  for  instance  —  were  most  certainly 
free  from  stain  of  cowardice  or  hypocrisy.  All  perhaps 
were  not.  Channing's  principle  of  avoiding  controversy 
because  the  points  denied  seemed  to  be  of  little  moment 
to  real  religion,  while  religious  controversy  was  most 
direful  in  its  consequences,  —  this  was  doubtless  the 
deepest  motive  with  them  all.  The  older  men  especially 
would  feel  that  motive  strongly.  They  saw  that  clear 
statement  on  certain  points  would  make  a  bitter  schism 
in  the  dear,  old  Church  of  the  forefathers ;  and  they 
could  not  bear  that  thought.  So  that  a  curious  phe- 
nomenon was  seen  in  the  religious  world  :  these  ration- 
alizers, even  more  than  the  Orthodox  with  their  plenary 
inspiration,  were  the  men  seen  clinging  to  the  letter, 
and  calling  loudly  they  were  the  Bible  men  !  These 
freer  thinkers  were  standing  as  the  advocates  of  vague 
thinking  and  dim  speech,  while  the  Orthodox  were 
the  defenders  of  the  right  to  think,  and  the  duty  of 
speaking,  distinctly  in  religion!  —  a  curious  but  not  a 
rare  phenomenon  wherever  a  Liberal  party  is  moving 
forward.  The  world  is  still  so  little  used  to  free  in- 
quiry in  religion,  that  it  has  not  fully  learned  the  ethics 
of  the  process ;  and  this  was  seventy  years  ago.  The 
Orthodox  were  right  to  some  extent  in  their  charge  of 
concealment.  Our  fathers,  the  Unitarians  before  Uni- 
tarianism,  chose  the  double,  the  esoteric  and  exoteric, 


52  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

way;  and  the  choice  exposed  them  to  the  pain  of  a 
sudden  crisis  of  disclosure. 

An  indignant  friend  and  an  indignant  foe  joined 
hands  in  bringing  on  the  crisis.  The  friend  lived  across 
the  water,  —  Belsham,  a  London  Unitarian  of  the  ex- 
treme Priestley  school,  and  vexed  in  his  soul  that  the 
American  brethren  were  so  slow  of  tongue.  In  writing 
the  Life  of  Lindsey,  James  Freeman's  friend,  he  accord- 
ingly put  in  a  long  chapter  citing  Freeman's  old  letters 
about  them,  and  adding  fresh  ones  just  received  from 
Boston,  all  courteously  betraying  the  non-commital 
policy.  Dr.  Morse  rubbed  his  hands.  That  was  what 
he  wanted.  Out  came  that  chapter  in  a  pamphlet ;  and 
straightway  his  "  Panoplist "  hailed  it  as  the  most  impor- 
tant publication  of  the  day.  That  it  was.  It  was  a  fire- 
brand, and  the  Review  was  wind  to  it.  The  churches 
started  up  and  watched  to  see  what  would  happen. 
The  Review  had  made  three  points :  the  New  England 
heretics  shared  Belsham's  low  views  of  Christ  and  muti- 
lated the  New  Testament  as  he  did ;  the  ministers  who 
led  the  way  in  this  apostasy  were  systematic  hypocrites ; 
all  Christian  fellowship  must  be  denied  them. 

The  Liberals  could  not  keep  silence  now.  But  who 
should  be  their  spokesman? 

Channing  was  thirty-five  years  old.  The  beautiful 
face  in  AUston's  portrait  shows  him  as  he  then  was, 
with  the  light  of  his  great  thought  dawning  on  him, 
before  the  eyes  gazed  widely  and  the  lips  Avere  set.  He 
had  been  a  quiet  minister,  making  his  calls,  preaching 
his  twice  a  day,  not  often  going  to  the  Anthology  Club, 
but  becoming  known  as  one  who  made  men  feel  relig- 
ious. Sad  and  indignant,  Channing  answered  the  at- 
tack. He  admitted  the  Unitarianism,  using  that  word 
in  its  broad  sense,    unconfined  to  Belsham's  view  of 


UNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND,  53 

Christ.  Opinions  differed  among  them  as  to  Christ,  he 
said.  *'  To  think  with  Belsham  was  no  crime."  But, 
as  a  fact,  few  did.  For  himself  he  had  always  scrupu- 
lously avoided  every  expression  that  might  seem  to 
acknowledge  the  Trinity  ;  and,  when  asked  in  conversa- 
tion, had  explicitly  avowed  dissent.  As  to  the  pulpit 
silence  about  the  Unitarianism,  he  admitted,  justified, 
glorified  it.  The  charge  of  hypocrisy  was  a  slander. 
*'  We  preach  precisely  as  if  no  such  doctrine  as  the 
Trinity  had  ever  been  known."  No  doctrine  was  more 
abstract  or  perplexing,  so  apt  to  gender  strife.  "  We 
all  of  us  think  it  best  to  preach  what  we  esteem  to  be 
the  truth,  and  to  sa}^  very  little  about  (speculative) 
error."  About  Calvinism  had  they  not  been  also 
silent  ?  Yet  they  were  well  known  Anti-Calvinists,  and 
no  preaching  was  more  easy  or  more  popular  than  at- 
tack upon  its  dogmas,  and  they  deemed  its  errors  far 
more  injurious  than  any  about  Christ's  person.  '^  Yet 
the  name  Calvinist  has  never,  I  presume,  been  uttered 
by  us  in  the  pulpit."  Not  hypocrisy,  but  self-denial 
rather.  And  then,  with  all  his  heart  and  soul  and  mind 
and  strength,  he  deprecated  the  threatened  break  in  the 
Church. 

To  answer  him,  a  second  champion  now  stepped  for- 
ward in  behalf  of  Orthodoxy,  Samuel  Worcester,  brother 
of  the  one  who  wrote  the  "  Bible  News  "  and  now  was 
editing  the  "  Disciple  "  for  the  Liberals.  To  and  fro  the 
letters  went  till  each  had  three  in  print.  This  was  the 
first  set  debate  in  the  Unitarian  controversy.  As  such, 
it  turned  less  on  the  proof  and  disproof  of  the  doctrines 
(that  came  later)  than  on  the  importance  of  the  doc- 
trines doubted  as  a  ground  for  denying  Christian  fellow- 
ship. Must  the  sacred  old  New  England  Church  now 
break  in  two  ?     Were  the  Liberals  *'  un-Christian  "  be- 


54  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

cause  un-Trinitarian  ?  "A  solemn,  infinitely  important 
question,"  Channing  calls  it.  He  insisted  that  the  dif- 
ferences were  like  the  differences  between  the  two 
schools  of  Calvinism,  not  fundamental.  Worcester  in^ 
sisted  that  they  were  fundamental.  That  was  all ;  but 
that  was  final.  Channing  said  the  Bible  was  vague 
about  the  nature  of  Christ  and  the  way  of  the  Atone- 
ment, and  that  therefore  the  Liberals  were  vague,  "  be- 
cause we  are  faithful."  By  that  Holy  Word  only  one 
belief  was  needful  for  the  Christian  name,  —  that ''  Jesus 
is  the  Christ."  The  Bible  vague  about  Christ's  essen- 
tial divinity  and  the  propitiatory  sacrifice !  cried  Wor- 
cester. The  Liberals  indifferent  about  these  thinofs ! 
Why,  "  set  these  aside,  and  what  but  Natural  Religion 
is  left?" 

At  last,  then,  the  heresy  was  out !  Its  veil  was  torn 
off;  a  name  was  forced  upon  it;  and  the  schism  had 
begun.  It  was  the  year  1815.  The  long,  slow  pro- 
cess, that  had  quietly  gone  on  since  the  Arminian  crisis 
two  generations  before,  had  reached  a  second  crisis. 
Sides  were  quickly  taken,  thoaigh  not  without  protests 
against  the  new  name  and  the  necessity  of  schism.  The 
reluctance  was  felt  chiefly  by  the  elders,  who  were 
hurried  along  in  the  Liberal  movement  in  advance  of 
their  sympathies,  —  men  who  had  out-thought,  but  not 
outgrown,  the  old  faith  that  yet  had  power  over  them, 
and  who  still,  perhaps,  distrusted  their  own  minds  in 
presence  of  the  wise  and  good  and  great  majority  of  the 
Church  to  whom  the  new  ideas  gave  contradiction.  But 
the  Orthodox  were  peremptory.  They  claimed  the 
right  —  surely  they  had  it  —  to  gather  what  they 
thought  plain  Bible  meanings  into  plainer  words,  those 
"  human  creeds "  so-called ;  the  right  to  say  to  the 
Liberals,  Since  for  us  the  essential  basis  of  salvation  is 


VNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.  55 

what  you  deny  as  even  fact,  since  in  your  eyes  we  hold 
monstrosities  of  belief  and  in  our  eyes  you  hold  mon- 
strosities of  unbelief,  you  must  go  by  yourselves  and  be 
a  church  apart  from  us.  Surely  they  had  the  right  to 
say  so.  They  went  far  beyond  this,  however,  and  to  be- 
ing peremptory  added  being  arbitrary  and  presumptuous 
where  they  had  no  right.  Identifying  their  church - 
fellowship  with  Christian  fellowship,  they  denied  the 
name  "  Christian  "  to  those  who  appealed  as  conscien- 
tiously as  themselves  to  a  common  Bible.  "  Are  you  of 
the  Boston  religion  or  of  the  Christian  religion  ?  "  was 
a  common  question,  while  a  pamphlet  from  a  layman 
on  the  other  side  —  such  a  slur  from  that  side  was  ex 
ceptional  —  retorted,  "  Are  you  a  Christian  or  a  Cal- 
vinist?"  In  spite  of  all  reluctance,  therefore,  the  two 
churches,  no  longer  now  two  parties  of  one  church,  drew 
off  from  one  another. 

Twenty  stormy  years  followed  the  acceptance  of  the 
Unitarian  name,  the  years  from  1815  to  1835,  before  the 
new  sect  fairly  won  its  claimed  position  inside  the  Chris- 
tian Church.  They  were  years  of  controversy  with  the 
Orthodox  and  of  inward  organization. 

Channing  kept  the  leader's  place  ;  and  once,  twice, 
thrice  again  his  plain,  strong  Avords  served  to  draw  fresh 
attacks.  But  he  left  the  defence  to  other  hands.  His 
own  main  work  was  to  be  constructive,  —  to  unfold  the 
doctrine  of  the  divinity  of  human  nature.  Nothing  that 
he  wrote  of  a  controversial  nature  remains  unpublished, 
no  single  sermon,  says  his  biographer ;  which  shows  how 
very  little  of  a  controversialist  he  was,  in  spite  of  his 
fame  of  leadership.  He  soon  recognized  that  the  break 
was  necessary,  whatever  were  the  consequences ;  and 
in  1819,  at  the  ordination  of  Jared  Sparks  in  Baltimore, 
he  preached  a  sermon  defining  Unitarianism.     It  made 


56  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

a  sensation  greater  probably  than  any  other  sermon  ever 
preached  in  America  before  or  since.  Two  articles  in 
the  "  Disciple  '*  quickly  followed.  In  one  he  considered 
the  objections  to  Unitarian  Christianit}^  and  in  the  other 
urged  the  moral  argument  against  Calvinism.  In  his 
vestry  the  next  spring,  the  first  Unitarian  organization, 
the  "  Berry  Street  Conference  of  Ministers,"  was  formed. 
His  opening  address  held  up  as  the  real  question  at 
issue  between  the  Liberals  and  the  Orthodox,  "  How 
far  is  Reason  to  be  used  in  explaining  Revelation  ?  "  A 
great  question,  he  said,  because  the  advancing  intelli- 
gence of  the  age  must  choose  between  a  rational  Chris- 
tianity and  infidelity,  and  the  choice  would  affect  all 
practical  morality  and  piety. 

When  they  heard  the  echoes  of  the  Baltimore  ser- 
mon, three  Orthodox  professors  buckled  on  their  armor, 

—  Dr.  Miller  of  Princeton,  Stuart  and  Woods  at  An- 
dover.  The  young  man  whom  the  sermon  had  ordained 
boldly  faced  the  first,  while  the  two  professors  at  the 
Harvard  Divinity  School  stood  forth  to  meet  the  others, 

—  Norton  against  Stuart  on  the  dogma  of  the  Trinity, 
Ware  against  Woods  on  the  dogmas  of  Calvinism.  The 
two  latter  debates  are  the  classics  of  the  Unitaiian  con- 
troversy. 

Channing  had  truly  stated  the  question  at  issue. 
Both  parties  appealed  to  the  Bible  ;  but,  in  their  exe- 
gesis, the  champions  from  Andover  refused  to  admit  as 
elements  of  knowledge  'Uhe  known  character  of  God" 
and  ''  the  state  of  the  writer."  They  simj^ly  studied  till 
they  got  the  writer's  meaning.  There  they  reached 
an  ultimate  authority  and  rested,  however  contrary  the 
meaning  seemed  to  common-sense  and  common  morality. 
Was  it  not  to  be  expected  that  Revelation  would  teach 
something  which  Natural  Religion  could  not;  and  how 


UNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.  57 

can  we  measure  inspiration?  they  asked.  The  Uni- 
tarians went  further :  they  ventured  to  criticise  the 
writer's  meaning  at  the  bar  of  their  own  reason  and 
conscience,  —  not  very  severely,  indeed,  but  enough  so 
to  reject  what  seemed  to  them  self-contradictory  and 
cruel. 

Stuart  granted  that  he  could  not  explain  the  distinc- 
tion of  the  Three  Persons  in  the  Trinity,  nor  that  of  the 
Two  Natures  in  Christ ;  but,  since  Revelation  gave 
Christ's  deity  as  ^fact^  the  mystery  was  to  be  accepted. 
Nor  was  it  more  a  mystery,  after  all,  he  urged,  than 
God's  self-existence  or  man's  own  double  nature,  —  mind 
and  body,  —  both  of  which  mysteries  reason  admitted  to 
belief.  Norton  met  him  with  that  able  argument  and 
text-array  which  afterwards  grew  into  his  volume,  the 
"  Statement  of  Reasons  for  Not  Believing  the  Doctrines 
of  Trinitarians." 

Professor  Woods  had  the  harder  task,  for  he  defended 
views  that  shocked  not  reason  only,  but  the  moral  sense. 
The  facts  of  Revelation  for  him  were  man's  entire  native 
depravity,  Christ's  vicarious  atonement  for  sin,  God's 
particular  election  and  irresistible  calling.  Like  his 
friend,  he  owned  the  difficulty  of  his  ''facts,"  constantly 
pointed  to  the  equal  mystery  shrouding  the  problem  of 
evil  on  the  plane  of  reason,  and  claimed  that,  strictly 
speaking,  his  inquiry  had  nothing  to  do  with  reconciling 
the  doctrines  with  the  Divine  Perfection.  There  in  the 
Bible  they  stood.  As  to  their  true  interpretation,  he 
disavowed  the  early  Calvinism  as  crude  exaggeration, 
and  fortified  himself  upon  Hopkinsian  ground.  His 
best  success  Avas  in  showing  that  "depravity"  was 
"native."  He  failed  to  prove  it  "total;"  and  com- 
pletely failed  to  show  how  this  and  the  cognate  doc- 
trines could  consist  with  moral  responsibility,  although 


58  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

he  strenuously  insisted  that  they  did.  His  defence  of 
''  election  "  is  a  wondrous  sacrifice  of  logic  to  loyalty. 
Throughout  the  argument  he  treats  his  innate  deprav- 
ity of  the  human  constitution  as  identical  with  "sin." 
'•'  Nothing  can  be  more  groundless  than  the  notion  that 
man  cannot  be  culpable  for  any  thing  which  is  not  ths 
consequence  of  his  own  choice  ;  "  "  the  propensity  to  sin 
is  the  very  essence  of  sin  ;  "  "  the  distinction  between  the 
character*  born  and  that  which  is  acquired  has  no  con- 
cern with  this  subject."  Around  this  point  circled  much 
of  the  debate  ;  for  "  the  grand  fundamental  error  of  the 
Unitarians  is  this:  they  overlook  the  ruined  state  of 
man."  With  this  point  all  the  other  doctrines  were 
necessaril}-  connected  ;  and  the  heart's  revulsion  from 
these  doctrines  —  vicarious  atonement,  election,  total 
depravity  —  was  itself  due  to  man's  depravity.  So 
pleaded  Andover. 

Where  Andover  was  strong  in  the  metaphysics  of 
necessity,  Dr.  Ware  was  weak.  He  simpl}^  cut  the 
knot  by  assuming  pure  choice  as  the  ultimate  cause  of 
sin ;  speaks  as  if  saint  and  sinner,  Adam  and  each  one 
of  Adam's  offspring,  were  all  endowed  at  birth  with  the 
same  moral  nature,  and  misses  the  fact  of  inherited 
tendencies,  —  not  ''sin,"  —  in  which  he  might  have 
touched  a  reconciling  truth.  And  where  Professor 
Woods  was  weak,  — in  the  inorals  of  necessity, — Dr. 
Ware  Avas  comparatively  strong ;  for,  on  this  assump- 
tion of  a  pure  will-power,  he  could  keep  intact  man's 
responsibility  and  the  goodness  of  God. 

Channing  had  spoken  a  fruitful  word  at  Baltimore. 
From  the  sermon  itself  and  the  discussions  that  followed 
it,  men  at  last  saw  plainly  what  Unitarianism  was  :  that 
its  stand  was  taken  squarely  on  the  Bible,  and  its  weapons 
were  very  largely  Bible  texts.     God's  Unity  against  the 


UNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.  59 

Trinity,  human  ability  against  Calvinism,  were  estab- 
lished on  that  basis.  Revelation,  miracles,  apostolic 
authority,  the  Christ,  not  only  were  allowed,  they  were 
emphasized.  But  the  Revelation  was  interpreted  with  a 
stranqelv  darinc:  reason,  which  insisted  that  itself  also  was 
from  God  ;  and  that  the  Christ,  whatever  his  rank,  or 
whatever  his  death  accomplished,  was  not  God,  was  not 
God-man.  They  saw,  too, — for  here  the  emphasis 
grew  yet  stronger,  —  that  no  shred  of  Calvinism  was 
left ;  that  Unitarians  could  not  see  how  a  little  lovable 
child  was  ''  totally  depraved  ;  "  how  moral  responsibility 
could  consist  with  "  born  depravity "  of  any  sort,  or 
"  election  "  with  God's  impartial  goodness,  or  "  vicarious 
atonement  "  with  God's  justice,  or  "irresistible"  grace 
with  man's  free  will.  The  negations  were  now  made 
very  clear  by  Unitarianism.  Its  affirmations  Avere  what- 
ever was  left  in  revelation  and  religion  when  these  were 
taken  away.  It  was  a  Bible  faith :  yet,  within  certain 
Bible  limits,  it  was  a  protest  of  reason  against  unreason  ; 
of  the  moral  sense  against  inhumanity  in  doctrine  ;  of 
common-sense  against  strange  practices  that  still  pre- 
vailed as  modes  of  religious  influence  and  action,  —  in 
short,  a  protest  of  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  early  nine- 
teenth century  against  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  pasfe. 
Words  henceforth  were  hardly  strong  enough  to  express 
the  differences  which  four  years  before  had  seemed  to 
Liberals  "  not  fundamental." 

Now  that  these  beliefs  and  disbeliefs  were  openly 
declared,  Unitarian  societies  soon  sprang  up  in  Phila- 
delphia, Washington,  Charleston,  and  New  York;  but 
they  were  as  tiny  islands  in  the  broad  main  of  Ortho- 
doxy. Only  in  New  England,  and  of  New  England 
only  in  Massachusetts,  and  of  Massachusetts  only  in  the 
eastern  counties,  did  the  new  faith  win  large  following. 


60  EZRA    STILES    GANNETT.        [1821-1824. 

The  country  population  as  a  whole  remained  loyal  to 
the  old  faith.  But  towards  the  sea-board  the  church- 
breaks  began  to  multiply.  The  growth  of  religious 
thought  had  been  so  much  a  part  of  the  general  intel- 
lectual growth  of  the  day,  that,  when  the  crisis  came, 
a  large  portion  of  the  culture  of  the  State  was  already 
pledged  to  the  heresy.  It  almost  seemed  like  asocial" 
movement,  beginning  at  the  top  and  working  down. 
Distinguished  laymen  even  more  than  distinguished 
ministers  gave  it  character.  Near  Boston  it  was  even 
fashionable. 

But  wherever  it  appeared,  each  parish,  each  neighbor- 
hood, sometimes  each  family,  was  divided  against  itself. 
Up  to  this  time  a  whole  township  had  often  used  but  a 
single  meeting-house.  Now  the  second  steeple  rose  in 
many  a  village,  and  signalized  a  bitter  controversy  going 
on  below,  the  opening  of  an  important  question  that  the 
courts  only  could  decide,  and  not  even  the  courts  could 
close. 

By  ecclesiastic  usage  in  New  England  there  had  always 
been  a  church  within  a  church.  The  communicants,  or 
"  members  "  proper,  composed  the  inner  body,  to  whom 
by  courtesy  belonged  the  privilege  of  leading  in  all  church 
matters.  Outside  of  these  was  the  rest  of  the  parish, 
the  towns-people,  who  filled  up  the  congregation  on  the 
Sunday,  and  who,  by  civil  law,  were  obliged  to  support 
the  minister,  as  they  had  to  pay  the  town's  school-mas- 
ter or  its  constable.  As  right  belief  had  generally  been 
one  condition  of  admission  to  the  inner  circle,  it  often 
proved,  when  the  break  occurred,  that  the  majority  of 
the  "members"  were  Orthodox  in  faith,  while  the  ma- 
jority of  the  parish  as  a  whole  had  become  Liberal.  The 
deacons  were  the  legal  trustees  of  the  church  property  ; 
but  now,  for  the  first  time,  the  question  rose.  For  whom 
did  the  deacons  hold  it, — for  the  "  church-members  " 


UNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.  61 

ov  for  the  "  whole  parish  "  ?  Which  of  the  two  bodies 
really  made  the  church  ?  In  1820,  just  as  the  profes- 
sors' letters  were  going  to  and  fro,  the  Supreme  Court 
of  the  State,  in  a  famous  test-case  at  Dedham,  gave 
judgment  in  favor  of  the  parish.  By  this  decision,  in 
case  of  separation,  the  meeting-liouse,  the  church-funds, 
the  ancient  name,  even  the  communion-plate,  remained 
with  the  heretics  where  they  were  in  majority  in  the 
town  ;  while  the  lot  of  exile  and  poverty  fell  to  the  doc- 
trinally  faithful  Orthodox.  No  wonder  that  the  feeling 
grew  more  and  more  bitter  through  the  next  few  years. 

The  new  party  now  had  its  name,  its  definite  doc- 
trines, its  leader.  For  older  chiefs,  it  had  most  of  the 
pastors  of  the  Boston  churches  and  of  mau}^  "  First 
Churches  "  in  the  towns  near  by ;  some  of  them,  how- 
ever, still  reluctant  chiefs.  For  bolder  champions,  it 
had  the  young  preachers  just  coming  forward,  eager  to 
bear  its  reproach  and  turn  it  into  glory.  It  had  its 
Divinity  School  and  able  professors  there,  and  its  min- 
isterial conferences.  For  literary  organs,  it  had  the 
*'  Christian  Disciple,"  edited  now  by  the  younger  Ware  ; 
the  "  Unitarian  Miscellany,"  issued  at  Baltimore  by 
Jared  Sparks ;  and  the  weekly  "  Christian  Register." 
The  College  was  largely  under  its  control,  and  many  of 
the  best  minds  in  the  State  were  its  helpers. 

Still  the  Liberals  had  not  yet  organized  themselves 
into  a  sect. 


tZ'^ 


IV. 

THE     GIRDING. 

1821-1824. 

The  Commencement  theses  of  the  college  Senior  are 
therefore  amply  explained.  He  grew  up  in  the  very 
centre  of  the  Liberal  influences.  The  time,  the  place, 
the  society  of  which  his  home  was  part,  laid  strong 
hands  on  him.  His  college  years  came  just  after  the 
opening  controversy  that  followed  Channing's  accept- 
ance of  the  Unitarian  name.  The  Liberal  Divinity 
School  was  organized  in  his  Freshman  year,  and  he 
crraduated  when  the  Baltimore  sermon  and  the  Dedbara 
decision  were  fresh  themes  for  indignation  and  applause. 
The  father,  shy  in  his  old  age  of  the  pushing  thought, 
died  while  two  years  yet  remained  in  which  the  boy's 
mind  was  turning  towards  the  ministry.  Close  by,  in 
Cambridgeport,  an  older  brother  preached  in  sympathy 
with  the  advanced  theology.  There  was  a  stir  of  battle 
all  around  him.  The  pure  gospel  was  to  be  rescued 
from  its  hurtors,  the  cause  of  religious  liberty  was  to  be 


1821-1824.]  THE   GIRDING.  63 

defended,  the  faith  and  the  reason  of  the  age  were  to  be 
brought  into  harmony  :  all  this,  besides  the  ever-existing 
call  to  help  men's  souls.  What  wonder  that  amid  such 
circumstances  the  feet  straying  along  the  sermon-path 
should  find  their  way  into  the  new  Theological  School? 
The  spell  of  the  lectures  in  Professor  Norton's  library 
drew  them  on. 

So  the  pleasant  student-life  continued  nearly  three 
years  longer,  growing  pleasanter  as  the  purpose  deep- 
ened through  the  lingering  doubts  of  fitness.  Professor 
Ware  taught  the  evidences  and  the  doctrines  of  religion, 
the  way  to  write  the  sermons  and  to  be  true  ministers. 
A  sheet  of  notes  taken  at  the  lectures  on  Ministerial 
Duties  still  lies  among  the  pupil's  papers,  and  would 
serve  well  as  a  sketch  of  his  principles  of  pastorship, 
so  closely  was  the  ideal  there  held  up  embodied  in  his 
after-practice.  In  between  the  lectures,  Ware  was  writ- 
ing his  replies  to  Andover.  But  less  on  him  than  on 
Professor  Norton  fell  the  burden  of  supporting  the  repu- 
tation of  the  School ;  for  Norton  taught  Biblical  Exe- 
gesis, and  Unitarian  ism  had  to  make  good  its  claim  to 
be  a  Bible  faith  against  a  host  of  challengers.  The  out- 
spoken editor  of  the  early  "  Repository  "  had  trained 
himself  into  the  ripest  scholar  of  the  land  in  Scripture 
lore.  Sacred  criticism  was  zealously  pursued  by  the 
young  men  under  his  inspiration.  "  Michaelis  and  Rosen- 
mliller  were  names  as  familiar  then  as  Mill  and  Spencer 
now,  and  were  pronounced  with  as  great  respect.  He 
who  could  buy  nothing  else  bought  a  Griesbach,  and 
he  who  owned  a  Wetstein  was  rich,  indeed."  The  taste 
for  Bible  work  now  caught  Lasted  through  life  with  Mr. 
Gannett.  It  was  his  favorite  form  of  literary  labor. 
Years  afterwards,  when,  a  patriarch  in  the  denomination, 
he  srave  the  address  that  celebrated  a  finished  half  cen- 


64  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1821-1824. 

tury  of  the  School's  existence,  he  thus  praised  those 
who  moukled  him  and  so  many  of  his  fellows ;  — 

"  They  who  came  under  Dr.  Ware's  influence  can  never 
forget  the  cahii  dignity,  the  practical  wisdom,  the  judicial  fair- 
ness, or  the  friendly  interest  which  secured  for  him  more 
than  respect,  —  it  was  veneration  which  sve  felt.  That  clear, 
strong  mind  abhorred  double-dealing  with  truth  or  with 
man.  As  candid  as  he  was  firm,  as  little  blinded  by  self- 
esteem  as  by  sophistry,  he  taught  us  to  hold  in  just  regard 
alike  the  privileges  and  the  limitations  of  human  thought." 

"  It  may  not  be  easy  for  those  who  cannot  recall  evenings 
spent  in  that  well-furnished  library,  which  he  converted  into 
the  most  attractive  of  recitation-rooms,  to  believe  that  Mr. 
Norton  inspired  an  enthusiasm  which  still  glows  in  hearts  no 
longer  young.  Yet  they  who  came  nearest  to  him  might 
tell  us  how  admiration  for  the  scholar  melted  into  grateful 
esteem  for  the  friend.  A  leader  among  those  who  were  then 
taunted  as  infidels,  his  religious  faith  was  '  as  Mount  Zion, 
which  cannot  be  removed.'  Standing  between  Orthodoxy 
and  Rationalism,  he  dealt  heavy  blows  on  either  hand.  Too 
individual  to  be  sectarian,  as  the  champion  of  an  unpopular 
cause  his  single  arm  vindicated  its  right  to  respectful  con- 
sideration. Mr.  Korton  erred  through  want  of  sympathy 
w^th  the  multitude.  He  had  little  respect  for  the  associations 
which,  if  they  sometimes  conceal  mental  poverty,  more  often 
uphold  a  trembling  heart.  That  any  one  should  wish  to 
retain  a  doubtful  word  in  the  common  version  of  the  Scrip. 
tures,  because  it  had  grown  dear  to  the  experience  of  generd- 
tions,  seemed  to  him  an  offence  against  truth.  Severe  as  a 
critic,  and  pungent  in  rebuke  of  personal  fault ;  when  his  class 
trusted  him,  how  he  took  them  into  his  embrace,  and  bore 
them  into  the  storehouses  of  his  great  learning ! " 

Of  a  part  of  his  life  in  the  School  he  kept  a  record. 
It  would  not  be  his  journal,  were  it  not  one  of  omissions 
and  failings  rather  than  of  performance. 


1821-1824.]  THE   GIRDING.  65 

"  T  have  spent  none  of  this  vacation  in  studying,  but  my 
time  has  been  quite  as  well  employed  as  it  usually  is  in  va- 
cation, and  perhaps  better.  Experience  has  taught  me  that 
it  is  useless  for  me  to  arrange  any  system  of  study  or  read- 
ing for  a  vacation.  I  am  indolent,  unless  I  am  forced  by  the 
recurrence  of  exercises,  or  something  of  the  kind,  to  apply 
myself." 

"  Sat  np  all  Wednesday  night  to  finish  dissertation,  from 
10  P.M.  to  6  A.M. ;  wrote  steadily  without  once  closing  my 
eyes." 

"  Came  home,  and  after  11  o'clock  Friday  night  began  a 
sermon,  wrote  till  3  in  the  morning.  Saturday,  writing  ser- 
mon ;  preached  at  8  o'clock  in  the  evening.  The  sermon 
seemed  to  give  satisfaction,  and  I  haA^e  felt  some  little  vanity 
in  the  rapidity  of  its  composition." 

Against  the  impression  given  by  such  extracts  must 
be  put  his  reputation  for  scholarship  and  high  purpose, 
and  the  expectations  he  excited  among  his  friends,  for 
whicli  there  must  have  been  some  basis  in  achievement. 
"  Exceeding  thorough,"  Dr.  Ware  used  to  say  to  his 
dissertations.  He  probably  travelled  too  far  among  the 
books  in  preparing  to  write,  then  had  to  execute  too 
fast.  The  sermons  were  usually  a  solid  argument  astir 
with  religious  earnestness  and  practical  in  aim.  First 
sermons  are  apt  to  contain  the  life-long  emphasis  and 
the  germs  of  half  one's  later  thought.  Mr.  Gannett's 
first  subject  was  Personal  Love  of  Jesus  Christ.  Among 
the  other  early  choices  were  Prayer,  Repentance,  Sins 
of  the  Tongue,  Practical  Infidelity,  Conversion,  the 
Scene  of  our  Saviour's  Crucifixion,  Mercies  of  God, 
Universal  Influence  of  Religion  on  Character,  —  a  fa- 
vorite this,  for  it  was  preached  sixteen  times.  "He 
preached  from  the  outset  very  fervently,  and  his  prayers 
were  most  simple   and  devotional,"  says  one  who  re- 

5 


66  EZRA    STILES  GANNETT.         [1821-1824. 

members  the  school-days  well.  In  thought  he  ranked 
among  his  classmates  as  a  conservative.  Thej'  nsed  to 
preach  in  turn  before  each  other.  When  his  first  turn 
came,  he  prayed  :  "  We  beseech  Thee  to  forgive  us  for 
the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ."  Dr.  Ware  spoke  of  it,  and 
Gannett  replied  :  "  I  used  the  words  purposely,  with 
meaning."  The  Doctor  said,  "  You  will  change."  But 
it  was  a  long  while  into  the  second  term  before  the 
meaning  grew  untrue  to  him. 

The  3'oung  man  was  no  bigot,  one  way  or  the  other. 
He  could  see  the  fault  in  views  he  held,  and  the  good 
in  those  which  he  rejected.  Although  the  ideas  of  re- 
ligion were  of  much  account  to  him,  religion  was  some- 
thing greater  and  deeper  than  the  doctrines. 

Sept.  23,  1821.  "  Last  week  I  returned  from  a  journey  to 
Greenfield.  I  have  always  found  my  mind,  after  a  visit  to 
this  place  or  to  Connecticut,  in  a  very  different  state  from 
what  is  usual  at  home.  My  thoughts  are  more  directed  to 
the  subject  of  religion,  of  vital  and  internal  piety.  Going 
among  those  whose  religious  sentiments  are  different  from 
mine,  I  hear  remarks  unlike  those  to  which  I  am  accustomed. 
Conferences  and  religious  meetings  are  common,  and  religion 
seems  more  an  every-day  thing  than  it  is  with  us.  It  cannot 
be  denied  that,  whatever  may  be  the  tendencies  of  Uni- 
tarianism,  its  effect  is  to  produce  less  apparent  attention  to 
religion.  We  may  discuss  doctrinal  points,  or  we  may  talk 
of  social  or  relative  duties;  but  piety,  devotion,  our  connec- 
tion with  God  and  a  future  world,  are  less  the  subjects  of 
conversation,  and  I  never  feel  my  own  guilt  and  utter  want  of 
holiness  so  much  as  during  one  of  these  visits.  I  am  almost 
frightened  into  the  belief  of  their  speculative  articles.  I  am 
confident,  when  I  think  calmly,  that  their  views  are  errone- 
ous ;  yet,  certainly,  the  fruit  looks  fairer  and  more  abundant. 
I  do  not  see  the  necessity  of  this.  If  we  would  feel  as  we 
believe,  that  there  is  a  future  world  of  reward  and  punish- 


1821-1824.]  THE   GIRDING.  67 

ment,  that  life  is  uncertain,  and  yet  on  this  depends  eternity ; 
that  religion  is  a  thing  of  supreme  importance  that  should 
engross  every  affection  and,  I  would  say,  every  thought,  — 
we  should  not  be  so  inert  and  lifeless  in  our  devotion  and  our 
piety." 

March  2,  1822.  "Yesterday  I  went  to  the  President  and 
signed  the  cliurch-covenant  of  the  College.  Furness  and 
Lincoln  went  the  day  before,  and  Kent  yesterday  morn- 
ing. We  had  conversed  much  on  the  subject.  When  our 
class  first  came  here.  Dr.  Ware  mentioned  it.  I  saw  the  Presi- 
dent and  conversed  a  little  with  him,  and  he  gave  me  a  copy 
of  the  covenant  some  months  since.  AVe  deferred  the  profes- 
8ion  from  motives  of  doubt  concerning  the  nature  of  the  or- 
dinance, and  our  own  fitness.  I  had  early  imbibed  reverential 
and  awful  notions  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  considering  it  some- 
thing to  which  only  the  true  and  high  Christian  could  be 
admitted,  —  without  any  distinct  ideas  of  its  nature  and 
obligation,  viewing  it  with  apprehension  and  awe.  These 
ideas  I  was  bound  to  define  and  examine,  and  I  was  thus  led 
to  see  their  fallacy.  I  found  the  Supper  an  ordinance  bind- 
ing upon  all  who  call  themselves  Christians,  but  not  imply- 
ing any  greater  degree  of  virtue  and  holiness  than  was 
obligatory  before,  being  simply  a  memorial  of  the  Saviour, 
and  a  means  of  improving  our  Christian  characters  and  dis- 
positions. I  knew  also  that  I  was  too  much  attached  to  the 
world.  My  resolutions  and  my  endeavors  have  effected  but 
little,  but  I  would  look  to  the  divine  grace  for  strength. 
Certainly,  because  I  fiill  infinitely  short  of  Christian  holiness 
is  no  reason  for  my  neglecting  an  obvious  duty  of  the  disci- 
ple of  Christ,  especially  when  that  may  aid  me  in  the  observ- 
ance of  others." 

June  26,  1822.  "  I  had  something  like  a  dispute  with  Dr. 
Ware  on  the  example  set  us  by  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  repre- 
sented in  the  New  Testament  as  being  a  perfect  example, 
and  yet  is  proposed  for  our  imitation.  Now,  if  Jesus  Christ 
was  a  being  of  superior  order  to  man,  his  conduct  cannot  be 


(jS  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1821-1824. 

an  example  to  us,  because,  his  powers  being  superior  to  ours, 
the  circumstances  of  life  could  not  affect  liim  as  they  affect 
us ;  if  he  were  a  simple  man,  he  could  not  have  been  perfect 
and  sinless  without  a  supernatural,  miraculous,  moral  influ- 
ence operating  from  God  on  his  mind,  and  which  we  can 
never  partake.  Dr.  "Ware  said  this  was  an  unfounded  sup- 
position:  that,  when  he  believed  in  the  pre-existence  and 
superior  nature  of  Jesus  Christ,  his  being  plainly  and  con- 
stantly presented  as  an  example  was  the  greatest  difficulty 
with  which  he  had  to  contend;  that  now,  considering  our 
Saviour  a  man,  this  was  removed ;  and  he  tliought  this  per- 
fection of  character  was  attainable  without  a  miraculous  in- 
fluence, as  we  find  great  differences  of  moral  excellence  at 
present,  for  which  we  cannot  account,  but  which  we  refer  to 
circumstances  beyond  our  knowledge." 

The  studies  at  the  School  were  over  in  the  summer  of 
1823.  But  before  the  first  candidating  came  the  "  Ap- 
probation."    Shall  we  look  in  upon  the  scene  ? 

*'  On  Monday,  November  10,  I  was  approved  by  the  Bos- 
ton Association.  I  sent  at  the  preceding  meeting  for  a  sub- 
ject.  The  text  assigned  was  1  Cor.  xv.  10:  'By  the  grace 
of  God  I  am  what  I  am.'  The  Association  met  at  Mr. 
Frothingham's  in  Boston.  Present :  ...  all  excepting  Dr. 
Harris.  My  dissertation  took  twenty-nine  minutes  in  read- 
ing. Henry  Ware  then  asked  me  some  questions  from  the 
manuscript  book ;  such  as.  What  attribute  of  God  must  ^a  e 
suppose  before  we  examine  the  truth  of  a  revelation  pretend- 
ing to  come  from  him  ?  (To  which  I  answered.  His  good- 
ness :  the  correct  answer  would  have  been.  His  veracity.) 
What  are  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  Christianity  ?  What 
is  meant  by  the  internal  evidence  in  favor  of  Christianity? 
What  is  meant  by  the  doctrine  of  satisfaction?  Does  this 
doctrine  necessarily  imply  that  of  imputation  ?  What  other 
views  of  the  atonement  are  held  by  Christians?  Are  you 
willing  to  state  your  own  views  on  this  subject  ?     (To  this 


1821-1824.]  THE   GIRDING.  69 

I  answered  that  I  was  not  fully  decided ;  that  many  passages 
of  the  Scripture  seem  to  ascribe  some  peculiar  merit  to  the 
death  of  Christ,  and  the  doctrine  must  therefore  in  a  great 
measure  depend  on  their  interpretation ;  that  the  last  men- 
tioned view  of  the  atonement,  that  which  supposed  some 
efficacy  in  his  death  without  in  any  degree  attempting  to  ex- 
plain that  efficacy,  seemed  to  me  a  nugatory  representation.) 
All  the  questions  amounted  to  between  a  dozen  or  so,  en- 
tirely on  the  evidences  and  doctrines  of  religion,  none  on 
Biblical  criticism,  interpretation,  or  ecclesiastical  history. 
After  he  had  concluded,  no  other  gentleman  putting  any 
question,  I  went  into  another  room  for  five  minutes.  On 
returning  to  the  Association,  Dr.  Porter,  moderator,  told  me 
they  had  voted  to  approve  me,  and  wished  me  success,  &c.  I 
drank  tea,  and  stayed  till  about  7,  —  and  brought  out  a  text 
for  Kent." 

The  Journal  continues :  — 

"  On  a  Saturday  morning  in  October,  I  called  on  Dr. 
Channing  with  Upham,  in  consequence  of  a  repeated  request 
from  U.,  he  assuring  me  that  Dr.  C.  had  desired  him  to  bring 
me  to  his  house.  We  found  Dr.  C.  at  home.  I  was  intro- 
duced to  him,  I  believe,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  and  sat 
perhaps  half  an  hour.  A  few  days  afterwards  (October  15), 
I  was  surprised  by  a  visit  from  Dr.  C.  He  told  me,  in  conse- 
quence of  what  he  had  heard  from  my  friends,  and  the  inter- 
vicAV  with  me  a  few  mornings  before,  he  came  to  request  me 
to  preach  for  him  half  the  time.  He  was  very  particular  in 
impressing  upon  me  that  I  was  not  to  preach  as  a  candidate, 
but  merely  to  relieve  him.  I  consented,  partly  because  I 
had  not  time  to  hesitate,  and  engaged  to  commence  on  the 
second  Sabbath  after  approbation.  On  reflection,  and  men- 
tioning it  to  Thomas,  I  found  the  engagement  was  a  very 
loose  one.  I  called  on  Dr.  C,  conversed  with  him,  and  fixed 
the  time  during  which  I  was  to  preach  at  eight  Sundays, 
he  preaching  alternately  in  the  a.m.  and  p.m.     Nothing  was 


70  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1821-1824. 

said  of  pay,  and  the  engagement  was  entirely  a  private  one 
between  him  and  me." 

Nov.  IG,  1823.  «  Preaehed  for  the  first  time  at  Mr.  Walker's, 
Charlestown.  I  was  not  so  much  fatigued  as  I  expected ; 
had  a  good  audience  and  performed  all  the  services." 

Nov.  23.  "  Preached  at  Dr.  Channing's,  Federal  Street, 
for  the  first  time.  Did  not  find  it  a  difficult  house  for  speak- 
ing, but  was  disappointed ;  saw  many  inattentive,  and  felt 
little  excitement." 

Dec.  21.  "Enjoyed  preaching  tu-day  for  the  first  time. 
I  did  not  like  my  prayers ;  am  afraid  I  shall  be  compelled  to 
write  them." 

Jan.  11,  1824.  "This  day  ends  my  engagement  with 
Dr.  C.  I  have  found  it  rather  a  pleasant  engagement,  have 
become  acquainted  with  Dr.  C,  and  been  j^retty  completely 
hrohen  in  to  preaching,  but  have  experienced  considerable 
inconvenience  from  the  uncertainty  in  which  I  was  con- 
tinually placed  with  regard  to  the  extent  of  my  services  on 
the  coming  Sabbath,  whether  for  the  whole  or  part  only  of 
the  day.  I  have  most  shamefully  neglected  to  write,  hav- 
ing finished  but  one  sermon  in  eight  weeks,  and  have  thus 
been  compelled  to  preach  sermons  which  I  never  meant  to 
deliver.  Dr.  C.  spoke  to  me  to-day  in  terms  of  great  kind- 
ness, expressed  his  satisfaction  with  my  services,  and  his 
belief  that  his  people  Avere  also  satisfied  with  them.  He  had 
told  them  he  should  be  satisfied  with  whatever  they  might 
do.  I  engaged  last  week  to  preach  four  Sundays  at  the 
New  South." 

In  that  day  the  New  England  custom,  by  which  pastor 
and  parish  entered  into  a  life-long  connection  with  each 
other,  was  but  beginning  to  wane.  It  was  still  consid- 
ered rather  dishonorable  fur  a  church  to  seek  a  preacher 
already  settled  over  another  church.  Young  men, 
therefore,  fresh  from  their  study,  were  looked  to  as 
the  natural  colleaGfues  or  successors  of  the  most  distin- 


1821-1824.]  THE   GIRDING.  71 

guisliecl  fathers,  were  watched  with  interest  by  city 
and  country  parishes,  and  taken  at  once  into  warm 
fellowship  by  the  older  brethren.  The  minister's  rela- 
tion to  his  people  was  a  more  affectional,  less  an  intel- 
lectual, relation  than  it  now  is.  The  good  paster  was 
sought  even  more  than  the  good  preacher ;  and  a  young 
man  could  rely  on  being  tested  not  by  his  Sunday 
efforts  merely,  but  by  the  outcome  of  his  whole  strength 
and  life. 

Dr.  Channing  had  possibly  first  seen  his  colleague  as 
a  little  fellow  in  his  mother's  chamber.  Now  the  young 
man,  in  turn,  meets  a  little  fellow  who  was  to  be  his 
successor ;  and  he  begins  to  be  aware  that  he  is  fairly 
leaving  the  quiet  Cambridge  shelter,  and  entering  the 
world :  — 

April  4,  1824.  "Preached  at  Rev.  Mr.  Ware's  in  Boston. 
I  dined  with  Mr.  W.  and  two  beautiful  children,  the  eldest 
of  whom,  a  boy,  is  between  five  and  six. 

April  8.  Called  on  Mrs.  —  I  fear  that  I  shall  never 
learn  the  etiquette  and  manners  of  fashionable  society.  This 
is  the  first  instance  in  which  I  ever  felt  the  misery  of  pat- 
ronage." 

April  19.  "  Messrs.  C.  and  W.,  of  Boston,  called  on  me. 
They  introduced  themselves,  and  stated  that  their  object  was 
to  see  me,  as  there  would  be  a  meeting  of  Dr.  Channing's  soci- 
ety on  Wednesday  evening,  on  the  subject  of  giving  me  a  call. 
The  conversation  was  partly  on  the  subject  of  our  Saviour's 
pre-existence,  which  Mr.  W.  defended  and  seemed  to  con- 
sider of  great  importance,  which  I  told  him  appeared  to 
me  not  an  essential  point  of  faith,  and  one  which  I  did  not 
believe,  though  I  was  not  satisfied  on  either  side  of  the  ques- 
tion. They  stated  very  expressly  that  their  visit  was  entirely 
in  their  private  capacity,  and  had  in  it  nothing  official." 

The  private  questioners,  however,  were  heralds. 
Verv  soon  he  wrote  :  — 


72 


EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1321-1824. 


June  27.  "Did  not  preach.  Attended  meeting  in  morn- 
ing at  College  Chapel,  and  in  afternoon  at  Cambridge- 
port,  this  being  the  last  Sabbath  of  freedom  that  I  should 
have." 

He  had  been  preaching  again  for  Dr.  Channing. 
"  Dr.  C.  wished  me  to  preach  as  much  as  I  could,  but 
he  did  not  think  a  young  man  ought  to  write  more 
than  one  sermon  a  week."  In  all,  he  had  been  heard 
fifteen  times  before  the  invitation  came  to  be  colleague 
pastor  of  the  Federal  Street  Church.  The  vote  was 
not  unanimous  ;  and  the  young  man  demurred,  as  well 
he  might,  for  many  reasons.  Mr.  Lewis  Tappan  gave 
him  courage  :  — 

"  I  learn  with  much  pleasure  that  Dr.  Channing  expresses 
to  his  parishioners  the  most  unqualified  approbation  of  their 
invitation  to  you  to  be  colleague  pastor.  I  fear,  from  what 
is  said  and  what  I  observed,  that  the  circumstance  of  two 
deacons  being  in  the  minority,  and  a  few  other  highly  re- 
spectable gentlemen  being  cool  or  partially  opposed,  depresses 
you.  The  o|)position  is  feeble  in  every  thing  except  the 
personal  characters  of  the  opponents.  One  fears  your  relig- 
ious views  may  not  be  perfectly  satisfactory;  two  decline 
voting,  because  those  in  their  confidence  are  not  in  the 
affirmative ;  two  or  three  are  not  so  well  satisfied  with 
your  pulpit  services  as  they  could  wish ;  and  a  few  are  not 
taken  with  the  preacher's  style  of  reading,  speaking,  &c. 
I  feel  persuaded  that  most,  if  not  all,  the  persons  will  in 
a  short  time  be  satisfied  and  cordial.  Perhaps  no  greater 
unanimity  has  occurred  in  this  city  in  settling  a  pastor,  and 
it  is  hardly  possible  that  it  should  be  greater.  It  is  not 
expected  that  a  single  individual  will  leave  if  you  are  settled 
Avith  us ;  and,  if  you  are  not,  there  is  no  doubt  many  will,  in 
their  dissatisfaction  that  a  colleague  is  not  settled.  You  see, 
sir,  I  argue  as  \^ you  were  an  opponent.  The  fiict  is,  ninety 
proprietors  out  of  one  hundred  iind  fourteen  (in  town,  scat- 


1821-1824.]  THE   GIRDING.  73 

tered,  sick,  &c.)  are  decidedly  and  warmly  and  anxiously 
desirous  of  your  settlement,  and  will  be  greatly  disappointed 
if  you  decline  it." 

This  was  reassuring.  But  then  to  be  a  colleague 
with  Dr.  Channing  !  To  stand  by  the  side  of  the  first 
preacher  of  Boston,  the  man  whom  the  citizens  revered, 
whom  the  "brethren"  hailed  as  chief,  whom  strangers 
sought  out  on  the  Sundays  !  To  rise  in  that  pulpit  and 
meet  the  disappointed  faces  of  the  audience,  hoping  to 
hear  his  elder ;  not  to  know  perhaps,  till  the  church- 
hour,  in  consequence  of  the  frail  minister's  uncertain 
health,  whether  his  own  Saturday  night's  sermon  was 
to  be  read  or  not ;  to  have  the  youthful  sermons  and 
services  contrasted  week  by  week  with  the  other's  deep 
thought,  his  chastened  words,  his  wondrous  manner,  — 
all  this  might  make  even  a  young  and  bold  heart  shrink. 
Shrink  no  doubt  his  did,  but  the  heart  was  bold  and 
ardent,  and  the  ambition  noble,  in  spite  of  his  self- 
reproaching  and  distrustful  habits.  He  could  resolve 
mightily,  and  hope,  at  all  events.  He  was  full  of  feel- 
ing about  the  greatness  of  the  minister's  work.  That 
work  which  he  called  "  an  office  that  his  Saviour  held, 
a  work  together  with  God,"  was  in  itself  vastly  more 
responsible  than  the  special  place  of  service,  wherever 
this  might  be. 

The  young  man  pondered  seriously,  took  counsel 
with  his  brother,  and  sent  acceptance :  — 

Christian  Friends,  —  After  much  deliberation,  I  have 
resolved  to  comply  with  your  invitation,  trusting  in  the  sin- 
cerity of  my  desire  to  be  useful  as  a  minister  of  Christ,  and 
relying  on  your  candor  and  on  the  grace  of  God.  To  Him  I 
look  for  light  and  assistance.  I  have  been  chiefly  deterred 
from  entering  on  this  connection  by  a  consciousness  of  my 
own  imperfections,  and  a  fear  that  I  might  not  benefit  you 


74  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1821-1824. 

nor  secure  my  own  happiness.  My  acceptance  of  your  pro- 
posal is  accompanied  by  distrust  of  myself  and  a  hope  of 
your  indulgence  for  my  involuntary  errors.  I  would  devote 
myself  to  the  office  and  to  your  good,  praying  that  the  con- 
nection may  be  a  means  of  improvement  to  us  both,  and  that 
the  blessing  of  God  our  Father  may  attend  my  exertions. 
Your  friend  and  brother, 

Ezra  Stiles  Gannett. 
Cambridge,  May  27,  1824. 

The  ordination  followed  speedily,  on  June  30  ;  but 
in  between  there  came  a  "  Gown  and  seven  pair  of 
Bands,"  —  yea,  and  a  suit  of  clothes,  and  cravats  and 
hose  and  handkerchiefs  and  gloves,  —  a  first  present  from 
the  parish  ladies  to  their  young,  motherless  pastor-elect. 

An  ordination  was  an  important  ceremon}^  in  days 
when  not  once  in  a  generation,  perhaps,  did  the  wor- 
shippers meet  to  welcome  a  new  minister.  Moreover, 
this  ordination  was  in  Boston,  and  in  Dr.  Channing's 
church.  Five  "  church-members  "  and  five  ''  proprie- 
tors "  were  chosen  to  superintend  the  arrangements. 
A  chief-marshal  and  aids  were  appointed.  "  The 
Reverend  Clergy  of  the  Ordaining  Council "  assembled 
hard  by  to  give  formal  sanction  to  the  candidate,  who 
seems  to  have  read  a  declaration  of  belief  and  purpose, 
after  which,  heading  a  procession  of  the  "  male  mem- 
bers," they  marched  into  church.  It  had  been  voted, 
after  full  discussion,  to  *'  invite  all  the  clergy  of  the  city 
other  than  those  of  the  Methodists."  So,  besides  the 
Congregationalists  of  both  wings,  the  Liberal  and  the 
Evangelical,  Episcopalians,  Baptists,  Universalists,  a 
Presbyterian  and  a  Catholic,  were  specially  provided  for, 
with  a  score  or  more  of  other  ministers,  candidates,  and 
students  in  divinit}^  "  the  University  under  the  care  of 
Rev.  Dr.  Kirkland,"  and  a  few  honored  lay-guests,  — 


1821-1824.]  THE   GIRDING.  75 

Chief- Justice  Parker,  General  Simon  Eliot,  Hon.  William 
Phillips,  and  Baron  de  Wallenstein,  Secretary  of  the 
Russian  Legation.  The  services  were  those  that  still 
are  common,  save  that  no  Scripture  then  was  read.  Dr. 
Channing  preached  a  sermon  upon  the  ministry  de- 
manded by  the  age  :  it  must  be  enlightened,  fervent, 
strong  to  controvert  scepticism  and  false  views  of 
religion,  and  filled  with  the -spirit  of  practical  reform. 
"  We  had  a  most  delightful  ordination,"  wrote  Henry 
Ware  to  a  friend.  "  It  is  not  possible  for  you  to  con- 
ceive the  excitement  produced  by  Dr.  Channing.  I 
never  have  seen  the  enthusiasm  equalled.  To  hear  such 
a  sermon  is  one  of  the  memorable  things  in  a  man's  life. 
It  forms  an  epoch  in  his  existence."  A  dinner  "  very 
sumptuous"  was  waiting  at  the  Marlboro'  Hotel,  at 
which  the  young  man,  now  "  Reverend,"  sat  between 
his  colleague  and  the  Head  of  the  University..  Rev.  Dr. 
Gardiner  (of  Trinity  Church)  asked  the  blessing  at  the 
table.  "  No  man  who  witnessed  the  general  prevalence 
of  Catholicism  and  good- will  through  the  day  could  go 
away  without  catching  something  more  of  the  affectionate 
spirit  of  our  blessed  religion." 

And  what  were  the  feelings  of  the  man  thus  welcomed 
to  his  life-work,  —  the  slender,  dark-eyed  stripling, 
twenty-three  years  old,  with  the  strong,  fresh  face,  and 
serious  yet  eager  look?  His  graduating  essay  at  the 
School  was  on  the  "  Means  of  a  General  Revival  of 
Practical  Religion."  That  tells  somewhat.  The  sermon 
with  which  he  met  his  people  on  the  first  Sunday  —  it 
was  July  4,  1824  —  tells  more.  Paul's  yearning  Avoids 
gave  the  text :  "  Receive  us  ;  .  .  .  for  I  have  said  before 
that  ye  are  in  our  hearts  to  die  and  live  with  you."  He 
pictured  his  ideal  of  the  relation  of  pastor  and  people, 
and  the  duties  of  each  :  askin^^:  from  them  confidence, 


76  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1821-1824. 

sympatliy,  indulgence,  attention,  religious  co-operation  ; 
hoping,  on  his  part,  to  be  their  teacher,  friend,  and  com- 
forter, and  their  example  he  knows  he  should  be.  Let 
us  listen  to  the  pleading  and  the  vow  :  — 

"My  friends,  my  destiny  for  this  life  is  determined.  I 
have  consecrated  myself  to  God  and  the  Church.  I  have 
connected  ray  happiness  with  yours ;  and  I,  who,  a  few  days 
since,  was  almost  without  a  home,  cast  on  the  waters  of  a 
wide  world,  am  now  fixed  among  many  friends,  and  made  the 
associate  of  one  of  whom  I  had  heard,  and  to  whom  I  had 
listened,  with  admiration.  ...  Be  indulgent  to  me.  Con- 
sider the  novelty  of  my  situation  ;  the  character  of  its  duties, 
so  different  from  those  to  which  I  have  been  accustomed ; 
the  early  age  at  which  I  am  to  undertake  them.  Do  not 
compare  my  instructions  with  those  which  you  have  so  long 
lieard  from  this  pulpit.  Consider  only  whether  they  are  the 
words  of  truth  and  soberness ;  and  though,  when  you  have 
listened  to  eloquence  and  thought  poured  forth  from  the 
lips  of  one  whom  you  venerate,  there  shall  be  little  intellect- 
ual gratification  or  little  fervor  in  my  ministrations,  remem- 
ber that  they  are  offered  in  sincerity,  and  that  they  are  meant 
for  your  improvement.  The  inspiration  of  genius  I  cannot 
bring  to  you,  but  the  services  of  a  devoted  heart  shall  be 
yours. 

"...  The  salvation  of  his  people  is  the  minister's  business, 
his  vocation,  his  employment,  with  which  nothing  else  may 
interfere,  Init  to  wliich  he  must  give  his  powers,  his  affections, 
and  his  time.  And  he  must  feel  a  holy  interest  in  its  success. 
His  thoughts,  his  words,  and  his  actions  must  all  tend  to  this. 
He  must  not  come  to  its  denials  and  its  pains  with  a  reluctant 
heart,  and,  while  the  words  of  humility  are  flowing  from  his 
lips,  let  a  worldly  ambition  be  torturing  his  soul.  He  must 
not  come  to  it  as  an  easy  resting-place  for  life,  or  an  honor- 
able condition.  It  is  not  an  easy  service.  It  requires  a 
sacrifice  of  self-love  and  self-indulgence;  and  lie  who  enters 


1821-1824.]  THE   GIRDING,  71 

the  temple  of  God  to  be  a  priest,  consecrated  to  the  ministry 
of  Jesus,  must  lay  down  at  its  threshold  every  sinful  passion, 
every  indulgent  habit.  He  takes  up  the  cross  of  his  Master; 
and  he  must  bear  it  with  him  in  all  j^laces,  though  the  scoffs 
of  men  be  heaped  upon  him.  It  is  an  honorable  service,  but 
only  when  it  is  maintained  in  its  true  spirit,  when  it  is  per- 
formed as  in  the  sight  of  God  and  without  hypocrisy  or  sloth. 
Then,  indeed,  it  is  a  noble  and  a  pleasant  service.  The  trial 
has  its  rewards.  The  minister  is  the  servant  of  God  for  the 
purposes  of  His  benevolence,  and  angels  are  no  more.  He 
fills  an  office  which  his  Saviour  held  on  earth,  and  he  w^orks 
toojether  with  God  in  the  res^eneration  of  man. 

"...  Brethren,  to  God  and  to  the  guidance  of  His  grace 
I  commend  you,  and  I  commend  myself;  and,  as  it  is  in  my 
heart  to  die  and  live  with  you,  may  our  lives  be  those  of 
friends,  and  our  death  be  that  of  the  righteous." 


FEDERAL    STIJEET    PULPIX. 


FEDERAL  STREET  CHURCH. 


Y. 


MORNING    WORK,    WITHOUT    AND    WITHIN; 
ESTABLISHING    THE    FAITH. 

1821-1836. 


He  had  found  his  place  to  stand :  now  with  both 
hands  he  grasped  his  lever.  "  One  thing  I  do,"  became 
the  motto  of  his  life.  He  felt  himself  to  be  a  Unita- 
rian minister ;  nothing  more,  but  all  of  that,  —  pastor, 
preacher  of  religion,  and  champion  of  certain  ideas  in 
religion,  then  much  spoken  against.  No  study,  no  lite- 
rary taste,  no  "  philanthropy,"  no  politics,  no  overstrain 
of  mind,  no  maimings  of  the  bod}^  were  to  draw  him 
from  the  chosen  task.  As  other  duties  came,  they  were 
attended  to,  but  all  turned  into  ministerial  plan  and  min- 
isterial performance  at  his  hands.  In  the  place  where 
the  work  began,  it  ended,  forty-seven  years  later,  —  with 
the  life. 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  79 

First  of  all,  the  young  pastor  must  learn  to  call  each 
of  the  flock  by  name.  So  round  and  round  the  parish 
he  went,  diligently  eying  the  strange  faces,  noting  the 
voices,  and  fastening  all  in  memory  and  in  his  chronicle  ; 
for,  fresh  from  the  School,  he  was  very  systematic  with 
his  note-books.  There  were  a  hundred  and  fifty  homes 
to  visit.  Before  the  first  six  months  had  gone,  he  was  well 
advanced  in  the  third  circuit.  This  was  the  very  part 
of  the  work  that,  from  the  college  point  of  view,  had 
looked  insuperable.  And,  doubtless,  it  cost  his  inbred 
shyness  many  a  doorstep  struggle  to  ring  at  the  homes  of 
the  fine  families  that  attended  Dr.  Channing's  church. 
At  the  fashionable  parties,  according  to  confession  after- 
wards, his  hands  were  too  much  for  him,  and  the  grace 
of  small  talk  sadly  failed,  and  he  yearned  then  for  the 
doorsteps.  Yet  traditions  linger  that  the  bending  ear- 
nestness of  tone  and  manner  was  winsome  even  in  such 
society  ;  and  a  certain  "  Book  Club  "  was  quite  famous 
for  its  happy  times.  With  those  not  rich  and  fashion- 
able he  felt  more  at  home,  and  probably  those  saw  him 
oftenest.  He  may  have  been  a  serious  caller,  but  that 
-would  be  expected  from  "  our  minister."  Of  course  he 
had  to  solve  over  again  for  himself  all  the  inevitable  prob- 
lems. How  could  he  be  social,  not  official,  in  the  calls, 
and  turn,  not  thrust,  the  conversation  towards  religious 
topics  ?  Sometimes  he  came  away  after  a  long  visit 
with  a  feeling  of  spiritual  unfaithfulness  in  not  having 
spoken,  and  sometimes  feeling  regret  for  a  faithfid, 
'awkward  homily.  In  his  young  strength  he  sometimes 
wished  he  could  be  sick  a  little,  to  better  understand  and 
sympathize  with  pain  and  weakness.  Above  all,  what 
could  a  boy  of  twenty-three  say  to  gray -haired  sorrow- 
ers? Perhaps  others  besides  Mr.  Lovering,  who  heard  it 
first,  and  tells  it,  may  take  courage  from  this  story :  — 


80  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1824-1836. 

"  There  had  been  sickness  and  death  in  my  parish.  I  was 
called  to  my  first  duty  as  a  minister  in  the  sick-room  and  by 
the  death-bed.  I  went  to  our  brother,  Dr.  Gannett,  for  the  ad- 
vice and  encouragement  which  I  needed  and  he  was  so  ready 
to  give.  I  told  him  ray  utter  agony  of  mind,  —  how  I  went 
from  my  home  with  heavy  feet ;  how  I  stood  upon  the  door- 
step, recalling  this  phrase  and  another  in  Holy  Scripture,  and 
praying  for  God's  help  all  the  time.  He  heard  me  through. 
Then  he  told  me  how  he  had  passed  through  the  same  strug- 
gle. He  told  me  how,  at  the  very  commencement  of  his 
ministry,  he  had  been  oj^pressed  with  the  sense  of  the  better 
confidence  his  jDarishioners  had  in  Dr.  Channing;  and  yet 
there  seemed  a  sacred  duty  laid  upon  himself  He  told  me 
that  one  died  in  a  family  of  much  refinement  and  wealth,  but 
having  no  a  ery  earnest  religious  faith.  He  visited  them  ;  was 
received  politely,  but  coolly ;  spoke  of  the  affliction  that  had 
befallen  them,  and  of  the  solace  of  Christian  trust.  He  was 
not  interrupted ;  no  attempt  was  made  to  relieve  him  from 
any  embarrassment  he  might  have.  All  were  somewhat 
moved,  excepting,  apparently,  the  father.  At  last  he  rose  to 
leave  ;  and,  as  he  did  so,  the  father  said  courteously,  with  no 
expression  of  feeling,  'Mr.  Gannett,  you  have  doubtless  done 
what  you  thought  to  be  your  duty,  and  I  thank  you.'  Dr. 
Gannett  told  me  he  went  home  thoroughly  disheartened. 
He  felt  that  he  had  somehow  been  an  intruder,  and  had,  Avith 
the  best  of  motives,  made  an  egregious  mistake.  To  his  sur- 
prise, he  learned,  some  time  afterward,  that  he  had  won  the 
hearty  esteem  of  the  whole  fimily,  and  that  his  words  were 
bearing  fruit  in  a  thoroughly  consecrated  Christian  life.  As 
my  interview  with  him  closed,  he  said,  in  effect,  '  Go  wherever 
your  duty  calls  you,  and  always  go  with  a  prayer  in  your 
heart.' " 

Before  the  faces  were  well  learned,  the  "  meetings  " 
began,  and  these  also  fell  to  the  new  colleague's  share 
of  duty. 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  81 

Dec.  21,  1824.  "Had  our  first  vestry  meeting.  Explained 
Rom.  X.,  and  made  some  extempore  remarks  on  verse  25, 
about  fifteen  minutes,  —  my  virgin  efibrt  at  extemporaneous 
delivery.  Did  quite  well,  —  altogether  beyond  my  expecta- 
tion.    Had  also  singing  and  devotional  exercises." 

Year  after  year,  save  during  the  city's  summer  thinning, 
or  when  the  monthly  lecture  before  the  communion  service 
took  its  place,  this  quiet  vestry-hour  returned  each  week. 
The  elaborate  "  plans  "  attest  Professor  Norton's  trained 
disciple,  and  laid  the  ground-work  for  the  many  hundred 
Bible  hours  that  were  spent  with  men  and  women  not 
then  born.  At  first,  the  subjects  fluttered  here  and  there 
in  the  beginner's  way;  then  gradually  drew  together 
in  courses.  One  course  was  on  Mosaic  history  ;  one  on 
the  nature  of  Christ ;  two  or  three  on  practical  religion ; 
another  on  the  parables  ;  and  two  winters  were  given  to 
the  fiicts  of  Jesus'  life.  By  and  by,  when  his  thought 
had  filled  out  connections  and  rounded  to  a  system, 
he  aspired  to  treat  the  "  History  of  Revealed  Religion," 
which  included,  according  to  his  division,  the  history 
of  the  Natural,  the  Patriarchal,  the  Mosaic,  and  the 
Christian  Revelations,  and  gave  room  to  discuss  large 
themes  like  Prophecy  and  Miracles  and  Inspiration  and 
the  Sufficiency  of  Christianity.  Of  all  the  week,  the 
vestry-talk  was  probably  to  him  the  richest  hour  in  good. 
It  gave  him  his  inner  circle  of  friends,  obliged  him  to 
keep  up  Bible  studies,  and  hid  him  during  the  painful 
early  practice  in  extempore  speaking.  And  it  must 
have  been  pleasant  to  others,  to  have  left  this  picture  in 
an  old  friend's  memory  ;  — 

"  I  valued  those  meetings  even  more  than  the  Sunday  ser- 
vices. He  seemed  to  be  then  peculiarly  on  his  ow)i  ground ; 
and  his  manner,  less  vehement  than  when  in  the  pulpit,  was 
tender,  impressive,  very  sweet  in  voice  and  look,  penetrating 


82  EZRA    STILES    GANNETT.        [182^1836. 

the  heart.  '  For  our  conversation  is  in  lieaven,'  —  that  was  one 
of  his  subjects  tliat  I  remember  best,  and  it  hints  the  tone  of  all. 
I  think  he  felt  happy  at  such  gatherings  as  at  those  of  our  Book 
Club,  because  he  knew  he  was  with  true  friends  who  all  loved 
and  Avelcomed  him  gladly,  and  he  saw  how  much  he  inter- 
ested them.  There  was  no  restraint.  All  were  very  social, 
the  conversation  free ;  and,  for  a  time  at  least,  it  was  quite  a 
parish  meeting." 

Not  by  any  means  of  all  the  tryings  could  he  write  so 
buoyantly,  "  Beyond  my  expectations."  On  the  con- 
trary, "  I  have  made  one  more  attempt  to  hold  religious 
meetings  of  ladies,  and  am  convinced  that  I  cannot  suc- 
ceed. For  the  present,  I  had  far  better  attend  to  other 
parts  of  ministerial  duty."  The  courage  returned, 
however,  with  the  need ;  but  that  seems  not  to  have 
come  until  Mr.  Kirk's  zeal  set  some  of  his  young  people 
to  searching  the  Scriptures  anxiously.  The  pastor's 
study  then  became  the  natural  resort  for  help  in  the 
things  hard  to  understand  in  Gospel  and  Epistle,  and 
gradually  the  Bible  class  also  grew  into  a  part  of  the 
week's  regular  work  and  pleasure  and  success.  The 
same  friend  says  :  — 

'■  Tlie  lessons  were  invaluable  to  us.  His  admiration  of 
St.  Paul  was  great ;  and  when  he  expressed  it,  as  he  often 
did  very  warmly  at  such  times,  it  caused  us  ladies  to  smile  at 
one  another  sometimes  to  hear  how,  in  expressing  it,  he  was 
unconsciously  praising  himself." 

The  children  were  the  next  care:  what  should  he  do 
for  them  ?  Sunday  schools  were  still  a  novelty  in  Boston 
churches.  At  first  he  tried  the  old  way  of  catechisms 
on  a  week-day.  Before  long,  however,  the  teachers  of 
tlio  "  Franklin  and  Chauncy  Schools  "  were  meeting  to 
discuss  the  best  methods  of  instruction,  and  he  was  with 
them   seeking  light.     For  him,   at  least,   the   problem 


1824--183C.]  MORNING   WORK.  83 

went  unsolved.  Sunday  school  never  ceased  to  be  a 
burden,  bringing  the  consciousness  of  constant  strain  and 
poor  performance.  Not  but  that  he  did  far  better  than 
he  thought ;  but  his  ideals  of  behavior  and  instruction 
were  too  serious  to  be  very  taking  in  the  eyes  of  little 
ones.  Once  rather  grimly  he  ventured  again  upon  the 
play-hours.  "  My  object  is  personal,"  he  writes  to  Dr. 
Channing,  who  was  consulted  on  all  projects  :  "  the 
children  will  gain  little  direct  good  and  will  enjoy  little 
pleasure,  but  I  am  willing  to  appropriate  this  portion 
of  their  time  for  my  own  sake.  On  the  attachment  of 
these  children  to  me  as  a  friend,  I  build  almost  all  my 
hopes  of  usefulness  to  my  parish."  Now  and  then  he 
wrote  special  sermons  for  them.  Very  solemnly  they 
read  to-day  ;  then  they  were  deemed  admirable,  some 
of  them  finding  their  way  to  print  and  English  re- 
print. The  fiftieth  anniversary  of  Robert  Raikes's  ex- 
periment he  celebrated  with  an  address  before  the  new 
'*  Sunday  School  Society :  "  that  also  made  one  of  his 
earliest  pamphlets.  •  And  in  the  spring  of  1835,  at  the  re- 
quest of  the  same  Society,  he  gave  a  course  of  lectures 
on  "  Christian  Morals  as  a  Branch  of  Sunday  School 
Instruction."  Four  lectures  only  had  been  asked  for: 
they  grew  to  seven,  and  his  trouble  was  to  hold  them 
there.     It  was  a  case  of  duty  :  — 

"  I  have  consented  to  deliver  them,  from  a  belief  that  one 
of  the  plainest  dictates  of  morality  is  obeyed  when  we  under- 
take to  do  the  best  we  can  in  a  good  work  to  which  we  are 
invited.  I  could  give  no  reason  for  declining  a  compliance 
with  this  request  but  the  consciousness  of  my  inability  to  pre- 
pare such  lectures  as  I  should  wish  you  might  hear.  But,  if  I 
yielded  to  the  sense  of  my  own  deficiencies,  with  what  face  — 
when,  upon  soliciting  a  friend  to  become  a  Sunday  school 
teacher,  I  should  be  met  with  the  frequent  objection,  *I  do 


84  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1824-1836. 

not  feel  that  I  am  competent' — could  I  reply,  as  1  have  so 
often  done,  '  Try,  do  as  well  as  you  can,  this  is  all  that  is 
expected  of  you  '  ?  " 

No  Sunday  in  those  days  went  by  without  two 
services,  nor  was  there  then  a  summer  resting-time 
when  the  church-doors  were  shut.  The  "  Thursday 
Lecture"  came  round  in  turn;  the  "Anniversary  Ser- 
mons," too,  then  preached  in  behalf  of  the  various 
city  charities  ;  and  frequent  summons  to  take  part  at 
ordinations.  One  winter  (1828-29)  he  stirred  up  the 
brethren  to  join  him  in  holding  a  Sunday  evening  ser- 
vice,—  a  great  innovation.  "Head  and  hands  full,'* 
says  a  letter  :  "  I  am  tired,  and  have  an  indistinct  view 
of  two  monsters  called  sermons,  neither  of  which  has 
shape  or  beauty,  —  they  must  be  caught  and  prepared 
for  exhibition  before  Sunday."  But  that  must  have 
been  one  more  than  usual.  Dr.  Channing  preached 
when  he  was  able,  —  sometimes  ten  times  a  year,  some- 
times twice  as  often  ;  and,  as  exchanges  then  were 
frequent,  —  the  chronicle  shows  three  a  month  out  of 
the  eight  services,  —  only  forty  or  fifty  new  sermons, 
after  all,  were  born  witliin  a  twelvemonth.  Hardly  one 
Avritten  during  the  first  eight  years  was  ever  preached  ^a 
second  time  at  home.  For  the  most  part,  they  were  ser- 
mons not  of  "  mere  morality,"  but  of  practical  piety, 
presenting  religion  as  the  consciousness  of  spiritual  rela- 
tions and  tlie  culture  of  a  spiritual  life.  In  1835,  at  the 
end  of  his  eleventh  year,  he  summed  up  the  five  points 
of  his  preaching,  "  repeated  this  morning  in  your  hear- 
ing for  perhaps  the  thousandth  time,"  as  — 

"Filial  reverence  for  God,  brotlierly  love  for  man,  a  grate- 
ful faith  in  Christ,  receiving  liim  as  the  revelation  of  divine 
and  the  model  of  human  character;  the  reality  of  the  spiritual 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  85 

world ;  and  regeneration,  consisting  in  sncli  a  change  of  the 
temper  and  way  of  life  as  may  be  wronght  by  one's  own  will 
and  effort,  and  shall  issue  in  the  establishment  of  the  senti- 
ments and  habits  just  described.  .  .  .  Let  a  man  observe 
these  five  principles,  and  he  will  be  saved  here  and  hereafter. 
.  .  .  And  if  you  are  not  saved,  oh,  consider  you  must  be 
lost !  Ask  ye  the  meaning  of  that  word  ?  Who  can  tell  its 
fearful  import?  Self-reproach,  exclusion  from  the  happiness 
of  heaven,  removal  from  the  favor  of  God ;  to  live  but  to 
suifer;  to  be  surrounded  by  proofs  of  the  Divine  Majesty, 
only  to  be  tormented  by  the  sight;  to  be  conscious  of  power, 
affections,  and  wants,  craving  and  pining  and  raging  for 
satisfaction  ;  and  to  feel  one's  self  at  variance  with  all  that  is 
true  and  good  and  beautiful  in  the  universe,  —  this  it  is,  in 
part,  to  be  lost  through  one's  own  folly.  What  more  it  is, 
eternity  will  disclose.  .  .  . 

"  So  1  preach,  brethren,  for  such  it  seems  to  me  is  the  in- 
struction of  Scripture,  confirmed  by  all  which  the  study  of 
our  own  souls  and  of  God's  providence  can  collect  of  light 
on  the  most  important  subjects  of  human  inquiry.  So,  as  I 
conceive,  have  you  been  taught  by  other  lips  than  mine,  to 
which  the  inspiration  of  a  deeper  acquaintance  with  these 
subjects  has  given  a  far  more  persuasive  force.  So  ought  I 
to  preach  with  the  convictions  that  now  fill  my  mind  in  the 
pulpit  and  from  house  to  house.  So  by  God's  help  would  I, 
and  will  I,  preach  more  earnestly  and  more  effectively  than 
I  have  done,  both  by  the  audible  voice  and  by  the  silent 
example.  Brethren,  let  the  prayer  of  your  faith  and  your 
sympathy  help  the  endeavors  that  may  be  made  for  your 
instruction  in  righteousness." 

That  the  tone  was  fervent  and  "  evangelical,"  the  ex- 
tract show^s.  Underneath  his  religious  thought  lay  the 
philosophy  common  to  the  early  Unitarian  thinkers  of 
this  country  and  of  England,  although  not  here,  as  in 
England,  had  Locke's  analysis  been  carried  out  to  doc- 


86  EZBA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1824-1836. 

trines  of  materialism  and  philosophical  necessit}-.  In 
theory  there  was  nothing  mystic,  nothing  transcen- 
dental. "  Faith  "  was  common  intellectual  belief  applied 
to  the  specific  truths  of  religion.  Like  all  belief,  it  was 
based  on  evidence  ;  and  the  evidence  sufficed  to  make 
him  a  most  assured  supernaturalist.  First,  the  historic 
reality  of  the  Gospel  incidents  must  be  and  was  estab- 
lished beyond  all  doubt.  Next,  the  prophecies  fulfilled 
in  Christ,  his  miracles  and  resurrection,  fully  proved  the 
special  divine  commission  that  he  claimed ;  and,  were 
still  more  proof  needed,  the  depravity  and  spiritual 
ignorance  of  the  classic  world  afforded  it,  —  so  fair  a 
form  as  Christianity  appearing  at  so  foul  a  time  must 
have  been  a  Heaven-sent  interposition.  The  Revelation, 
thus  proved  genuine  by  Reason,  then  became  the  source 
of  man's  highest  knowledge  on  the  most  momentous 
themes  ;  as  such,  it  was  incomparably  the  great  event 
of  liuman  histor}^  Reason  again  was  called  on  as  its 
interpreter  ;  and  not  even  where  the  deepest  longings 
cried  for  light  was  the  meaning  of  the  sacred  message 
hastily  assumed.  The  nature  of  Christ,  for  instance,  was 
a  confessed  secret  to  him.  "  I  have  often  heard  him 
lament  the  Orthodox  exaltation  of  Christ's  influence, 
because  it  obscured  '  the  Father.'  The  rank  of  Christ 
personally,  he  said,  we  were  not  shown,  but  the  divinity 
of  liis  mission  was  clear,  —  that  was  enough  for  us." 
The  future  punishment  of  the  wicked,  the  reunion  of 
friends  ])cyond  the  grave,  were  other  secrets :  the  New 
Testament  disclosed  nothing  definite  about  them.  But 
the  glorious  news  that  God  is  our  "  Father,"  that  for- 
giveness of  sins  is  possible,  that  there  is  a  future  life,  — 
these  were  truths  disclosed  there,  and  for  him  they  were 
truths  which  depended  wholly  on  that  Revelation  for 
their  certainty.    Natural  Religion  only  furnished  a  "  per- 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK,  87 

haps."  No  wonder,  therefore,  that  around  "  Christian- 
ity," in  the  specific  sense,  much  of  his  thought  and 
gratitude  centred.  In  this  early  time  he  preached  ser- 
mons on  its  evidences,  even  a  course  of  lectures  once  or 
twice.  Very  often  he  spoke  of  the  Revealer,  his  char- 
acter, his  influence  on  the  life  of  the  world  and  in  the 
individual  soul ;  and  always  the  fact  of  Christ's  mission 
was  the  ground  from  which  he  urged  his  most  earnest 
appeal  for  love  and  trust  and  loyalty  towards  God. 

A  clear-cut  system  this.  His  mind  demanded  such. 
Had  he  been  a  pure  "  Rationalist,"  had  the  Revelation 
failed  to  warrant  itself  as  authentic  event,  he  would 
probabl}'  have  been  sceptical  in  regard  to  much  that 
many  minds  easily  accept  from  Reason,  —  a  sceptic  on 
the  ground  that  there  was  no  sufficing  proof.  But,  as 
it  was,  the  clear-cut  system  was  any  thing  but  a  cold, 
unworshipful  system.  The  piety,  which  some  need 
mystery  to  beget,  in  him  sprang  from  the  intenseness 
of  a  definite  conception.  Belief  must  needs  be  fixed  by 
an  intellectual  process  first :  then  his  feeling  rose  and 
gathered  round  it,  until  the  two  became  one  in  a  fervent 
religious  experience,  as  genuinely  "  transcendental,"  as 
truly  a  "  Christian  consciousness,"  as  any  thing  that 
claims  those  mystic  names.  And,  as  applied  to  duty, 
the  faith  showed  itself  a  very  strong,  persistent  motive- 
force.  Yet  the  religious  feeling  thus  generated  bore 
signs  of  its  origin.  The  associations  of  his  childhood 
and  his  ancestry  abode  with  him.  It  reveals  the  char- 
acter and  the  realness  of  his  faith,  that  he  could  not 
bear  to  hear  Christ  called  simply  "  Jesus,"  and  in  some 
moods  shrunk  from  calling  God  ''our  Father."  The 
one  address  was  too  familiar :  the  other  was  privilege  so 
mighty,  such  infinite  condescension  on  the  Father's  part, 
that  it  seemed  like  self-forgetful  daring  in  man  to  use  it 


88  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1824-1836. 

freely.  Fear  was  not  east  out  of  the  love.  The  grati- 
tude was  often er  the  man's  self-conscious  duty  than 
the  child's  spontaneous  thanksgiving.  The  trust  was 
the  trust  of  an  awed  dependence  rather  than  of  sym- 
pathy. To  quote  a  word  addressed  to  his  friend,  Mr. 
Kent :  — 

"  I  wish  I  had  as  clear  and  strong  a  faith  in  the  goodness 

of  God  as has.     It  reconciles  liim  to  every  thing,  and 

makes  him  always  calm  and  cheerful.  I  cannot  divest  my- 
self of  early  im})ressions,  and  I  am  in  continual  fear  lest  I 
should  think  too  mildly  of  God  and  should  not  sufficiently 
reverence  His  justice  and  holiness.  He  resolves  every  thing 
into  Love.  I  am  afraid  to  do  so.  And  yet  I  helieve  that 
God  is  infinitely  good,  but  we  are  miserable  sinners  who 
deserve  His  displeasure." 

All  this  gave  way  at  other  times  to  completely  self- 
forgetting  ''  fellowship  with  the  Father ;  "  and  the 
movement  of  his  mind  was  towards,  not  away  from, 
such  experience.  Here  is  another  letter  to  Kent,  with 
a  passage  from  a  sermon  of  1834 :  — 

"Feb.  3,  1832. 
"...  How  wonderfully  God  has  arranged  the  circumstances 
of  affliction  !  There  never  was  a  bereavement,  there  is  no  form 
of  trial,  to  which  do  not  belong  peculiar  topics  of  consola- 
tion. Oil !  if  we  would  only  believe  that  all  things  are  right, 
and  that  divine  love  watches  over  us  with  infinite  skill  of 
tenderness  (if  I  may  use  so  strange  an  expression),  what  a 
blessed  life  we  might  lead !  I  thank  God  that  His  discipline 
has  taught  me  that,  till  I  have  learned  to  give  myself  up  to 
Him  in  practical  trust,  submission,  faith,  I  shall  never  be  at 
peace.  Outward  circumstances  could  not  make  me  happy. 
I  have  been  j)rospered  and  been  disappointed,  have  had 
blessings  and  troubles ;  but  I  believe  I  can  say,  with  con- 
viction and  understanding  of  its  truth,  that  I  never  had  one 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK,  89 

trouble  which  I  did  not  bring  on  myself,  or  in  which  I  did 
not  see  that  God  was  anxious  for  my  good.  I  have  had  some 
hard  rubs  in  the  exj^erience  of  life,  and  there  are  some  tender 
places  in  my  heart  now.  But  I  am  as  thoroughly  convinced 
as  that  I  live  that  just  the  experience  which  I  have  had  was 
what  I  needed,  and  that  any  thing  less  severe  would  have 
been  mischievous.  Now  if  I  can  only  make  the  light  of  this 
faith  rest  upon  the  future  as  well  as  on  the  past !  Ah,  there's 
the  difficulty.  We  must  try,  Kent.  That's  the  law,  —  try, 
pray,  watch,  and  God  will  help  us." 

In  the  sermon,  the  words  seem  to  pant  and  struggle  to 
utter  the  feeling :  — 

"  Fellowship  with  the  Father  and  His  Son,  Jesus  Christ : 
fellowship,  —  friendship,  sympathy,  communion,  yea,  more,  — 
consciousness  of  unity  between  the  creature  and  His  Maker ! 

"  Fellowship  w4th  the  Father  and  His  Son,  Jesus  Christ : 
it  is  promised  and  given  to  satisfy  the  wants  of  man's  spii-it- 
ual  nature,  it  is  what  the  soul  sighs  after,  seeks  for,  struggles 
for! 

"  Fellowship  with  the  Father  and  His  Son,  Jesus  Christ :  it 
is  given  unto  us  to  live  in  fellowship,  to  hold  communion, 
to  be  07ie^  with  that  Great  Being  whose  home  is  the  every- 
where of  existence,  whose  life  is  Eternity^  whose  essence  is 
Thought,  lohose  action  is  Love^  —  Love  revealed  through 
Christ  Jesus,  our  Lord  !  " 

In  style  the  sermons  were  what  would  be  expected 
from  a  vigorous,  logical  mind,  not  widely  trained  by 
literary  culture.  They  always  had  a  "plan."  The 
hearer,  even  if  he  missed  the  text,  could  tell  to  what 
subject  he  had  listened  for  the  forty  minutes,  and 
could  easily  carry  home  the  ideas,  if  he  would,  in  their 
well-ordered  sequence.  But  no  epigram,  no  anecdote, 
had  drawn  his  w^andering  eyes  up  to  the  pulpit. 
Judged    by  the   feeling  of  to-day,  there  was  nothing 


90  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [182^-1836. 

brilliant,  nothing  subtle,  little  poetry,  little  play  of 
imagination  or  vivid  pieturesqueness ;  few  illustra- 
tions came  straying  in  from  books;  more  came  from 
Nature  and  from  common  life,  but  even  these  were 
wont  to  enter  somewhat  formally  as  analogues  and  par- 
allels. In  general,  the  language,  left  to  itself,  went 
soberly  straightforward  to  the  meaning.  The  purpose 
was  too  grave  for  the  expression  to  be  other  than  simple 
and  direct ;  but  through  the  gravity  there  always  glowed 
a  force  of  moral  feeling,  which  oft-times  kindled  into 
real  eloquence. 

This  chastened  sobriety  was  the  usual  style  of  good 
discoui-ses  then.  The  thought,  also,  he  shared  with 
others.  But  the  utterance  was  his  own,  and  unique. 
It  disclosed  his  inmost  self  to  those  who  looked  and  lis- 
tened. Not  the  lips  alone,  the  whole  man  spoke.  As 
he  warmed,  the  deep-set  eyes  shone,  the  face  was 
lighted,  the  head  trembled,  the  voice  almost  shouted, 
and  the  hands  fitted  all  the  words  with  free,  abounding 
gesture.  All  this  habitually,  even  when  reading  written 
seiTnons.  To  some  the  fervor  proved  displeasing.  A 
friend  warns  him  that  he  ranted:  "Your  manner  was 
so  impassioned,  you  betraj'ed  so  much  want  of  self-con- 
trol, as  quite  to  take  off  the  mind  from  the  subject  and 
fix  it  on  the  speaker."  Both  Henry  Ware  and  Dr. 
Channing  hasten  to  tell  him  that  in  his  absorption  he  is 
not  aware  how  long  he  makes  his  prayers.  And  the 
sermons  too  :  "  You  have  always  leaned  to  the  danger 
of  too  great  length,"  writes  Dr.  Channing.  And  again  : 
"  Some  of  our  friends  spoke  to  me  of  your  having 
preached  a  lonr;  sermon  on  a  hot  summer  afternoon. 
I  was  sorry  for  you  and  your  liearers.  Will  you  not 
spare  yourself  ?  "  He  never  learned  that  kind  of  fru- 
gality and  philanthropy.     But  the  long  sermons  were 


1824-1836.]  MORNING  WORK.  91 

very  apt  to  rise  at  the  end  to  a  sweep  and  power  of  elo- 
quence that  sent  the  hearers  away  well  repaid  for  the 
middle  spaces  of  their  patience. 

In  the  moral  feeling  thus  fused  with  every  word  lay 
the  main  secret  of  his  rare  success  as  an  extempora- 
neous speaker.  Such  speech  was  a  kind  of  action,  and 
in  action  he  at  once  forgot  himself.  Another  secret 
was  the  might  of  his  base-convictions,  and  the  logical 
habit  of  his  mind  in  working  from  them.  Standing  on 
the  firm-set  premises,  he  sighted  his  points  clearly,  and 
on  the  way  towards  them  in  argument  was  not  to  be 
drawn  off  into  vagueness  or  side-issues.  The  success 
was  not  achieved,  however,  without  struggle.  Once, 
while  still  a  boy  at  preaching  so  that  each  Sunday 
brought  a  fresh  experience  to  be  noted,  the  honest 
record  reads :  — 

Feb.  15,  1824.  "Preached  at  Cambridge.  The  associa- 
tions connected  with  the  place,  and  my  situation,  embarrassed 
me ;  and  I  delivered  ray  sermon  very  badly,  with  too  much 
haste,  in  some  passages  with  mere  declamation.  As  I  had 
not  been  accustomed  to  the  short  prayers  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  service,  I  found  them  very  difficult ;  and  in  the 
afternoon  hesitated  and  paused  in  the  midst  of  a  sentence  for 
a  minute,  —  a  most  dreadful  minute,  —  a  dead  silence  that 
must  be  broken  by  me,  and  I  knowing  not  what  to  say." 

The  first  time  he  preached  extempore  was  at  the 
House  of  Correction,  and  on  the  Sunday  after  his 
*'  virgin  effort"  in  the  vestry  had  made  him  bold :  — 

Dec.  26,  1824.  "  Fifty  or  sixty  females  present.  Trusted 
entirely  to  extempore  address,  and  made  wretchfed  work. 
Spoke  only  about  ten  minutes,  on  the  evil  of  sin,  from  Titus  ii. 
11-18.  It  was  a  complete  failure.  Did  not  hesitate,  because, 
as  soon  as  I  found  my  stock  of  ideas  and  words  exhausted, 


92  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.  [1824-1836. 

I  closed ;  but  it  consisted  of  the  merest  commonplaces.     I 
was  abundantly  mortified  and  frightened." 

Not  for  four  or  five  years  does  he  seem  to  have  trusted 
himself  again  ;  and  then,  when  he  ventured,  it  was 
oftener  at  Dr.  Tuckerman's  or  Mr.  Barnard's  mission- 
chapel  than  in  the  pulpit  which  he  called  ''  home." 
The  first  time  at  Federal  Street,  "it  failed."  A  Fast 
Day  gave  him  courage  to  try  once  more,  for  Fast  Day 
t^'as  not  quite  a  Sunday.  The  fifth  time  is  still  marked 
*'  miserable.  Never  extemporize  in  church  again."  But 
the  seventh  time  —  it  did  not  come  till  September, 
1832  —  was  ''better  than  ever  before  in  extempore 
preaching  in  church.  Had  no  notes  before  me,  and 
found  it  an  advantage  to  be  free  from  them."  The 
consciousness  of  power  must  now  have  been  near  dawn- 
ing ;  for  soon  afterwards  he  was  delivering  lectures  in 
course,  using  only  notes.  The  vestry-talks  had  brought 
him  through  to  victory. 

Whether  written  or  extemporaneous,  friends  called 
the  sermons  fine  productions  for  a  man  of  his  few  years. 
Not  so  thought  he.  Now  and  then,  but  rarely,  a  dis- 
covery brightened  him  about  them.  ''  I  can  see  his 
glowing  face  as  I  told  him  that  his  sermon  on  Family 
Prayer  had  led  to  the  beginning  of  the  habit  in  some  of 
his  families."  He  wrote  that  friend  that  she  had  done 
more  than  she  could  well  imagine  for  his  happiness. 
Another  message  from  the  helper  who  told  him  that  he 
ranted :  — 

"  I  cannot  see  you  under  such  discouragement,  and  refram 
from  remonstrating  against  it.  I  know  you  would  be  grieved, 
were  you  aware  that  you  rendered  ingratitude  for  your  best 
gifts;  and  when  you  repine,  what  else  is  it?  You  may 
depend  upon  it  you  estimate  your  powers  at  too  low  a  rate. 


1824-1836.]  MORNING  WORK.  93 

The  day  you  preached  on  '  Guarding  our  Religious  Liberties,' 
I  walked  home  with  Dr.  Channing,  and  asked  him  what  he 
thought  of  the  sermon.  He  approved  of  it,  and  added  that 
it  was  a  remarkable  production  for  so  young  a  man.  On 
the  day  when  you  preached  before  the  Society  for  Indigent 
Boys,  Dr.  Tuckerman  sat  in  the  same  pew :  I  asked  him  the 
same  question.  He  was  warmer  yet  in  your  praise,  and 
approved  every  part  of  it  except  the  apologies  in  the  begin- 
ning ;  and  those,  he  said,  he  could  not  bear.  He  thought 
those  unacquainted  with  the  singular  humility  of  your  char- 
acter could  not  believe  them  spoken  with  sincerity.  But  it 
seems  that  you  gave  such  satisfaction  to  the  public  in  the 
former  address  before  the  Female  Orphan  Asylum  that  you 
were  chosen  for  this  also.  .  .  .  We  all,  from  the  first,  admired 
the  Christian  humility  which  could  consent  to  place  yourself 
in  comparison  with  Dr.  Channing;  and,  believe  me,  we 
think  your  sermons  fully  as  useful." 

His  relations  with  the  elder  pastor  were  most  pleas- 
ant ;  but  tbey  were  wholly  different  men.  Dr.  Chan- 
ning was  a  recluse  in  habits,  a  still  afid  careful  thinker, 
searching  far  for  higher  views  of  man  and  God,  and 
applying  them  to  theories  of  social  reform  :  the  other 
was  impetuous,  directly  practical  in  aim,  enthusiastic  in 
action,  more  given  to  define  and  organize  and  spread 
abroad  the  truth  already  fitted  to  his  mind  and  tongue 
than  to  seek  farther  truth.  One,  too,  was  in  the  zenith 
of  his  fame,  the  man  whom  all  in  and  out  of  the  denom- 
ination thought  of  when  they  mentioned  Unitarianism  : 
the  other  was  but  a  beginner  by  his  side,  and  a  beginner 
strangely  humble-minded  for  one  so  eager  and  ambi- 
tious. Their  intercourse  was  unequal.  Perhaps  they 
never  could  have  come  into  close  sympathy.  The 
young  man's  manner  expressed  the  reverence  he  felt, 
—  too  great  for  intimacy.     Dr.  Channing,  from  his  side, 


94  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT.        [1824-1836. 

looked  out  kindly  for  his  colleague's  comfort,  and  deli- 
cately avoided  interfering  in  the  work;  indeed,  there 
could  have  been  little  need  of  offering  advice  where 
consultation  was  so  sure  and  deferential.  He  once  had 
an  opportunity  to  tell  their  people  :  "Of  the  faithful- 
ness of  our  friend  to  this  congregation  I  need  not  speak. 
He  toiled  day  and  night  for  the  cause  to  which  he  had 
given  himself.  Of  his  connection  with  myself,  let  me 
say  that  it  has  never  for  a  moment  been  disturbed  by 
a  word,  I  may  add  by  a  thought,  which  friendship  would 
wish  to  recall.  Mutual  confidence,  a  disposition  in  each 
to  concede  to  the  other  unrestricted  freedom  of  opinion 
and  operation,  and,  I  trust,  a  disposition  to  rejoice  in 
one  another's  success,  have  given  us  the  benefits  of  this 
relation,  unmixed  with  the  evils  to  which  it  is  thought 
to  be  liable."  Few  letters  passed  between  them,  for  only 
during  Dr.  Channing's  long  Newport  summers  was  cor- 
respondence held.  But  one  caution  was  oft  repeated 
in  these  few.  A  few  days  after  the  ordination,  he  wrote 
from  the  Island  :  — 

"  Many  young  ministers,  whose  heart  is  in  their  work, 
suffer  from  an  excess  of  excitement  and  cares  at  the  begin- 
ning of  their  labors.  I  have  every  motive  for  urging  on  you 
a  wise  moderation.  You  have  expressed  so  earnest  a  desire 
to  afford  me  reUef  that  I  ought  to  say  that  I  never  left  my 
people  with  so  light  and  unburdened  a  spirit  as  at  present. 
I  have  a  strong  confidence  that  you  will  be  a  blessing  to 
them." 

In  1830  he  writes  again  from  Newport:  — 

"  My  fife  passes  almost  unvaried  by  incidents.  One  day 
repeats  the  last.  This  way  of  life  is  not  best  for  all,  perhaps 
not  for  many.  To  some  it  is  a  necessity.  You,  my  dear  sir, 
were  made  lor  action  almost  without  intermission ;  and  you 


1824-1836.]  MORNING  WORK.  95 

dnd  your  class  fill  a  most  important  place  in  the  clinrcli  and 
the  world." 

Between  these  messages,  as  we  shall  see,  had  come 
much  stronger  warnings  against  overwork  and  de- 
spondency, given  in  a  friendly,  outspoken  way.  The 
state  of  his  health  obliged  him  to  throw  on  the  helper 
so  much  of  the  parish  care,  that  he  tried  at  once  to 
make  him  accept  a  part  of  his  own  salary,  —  but  in 
vain :  he  found  that  he  could  approach  his  purpose  only 
indirectly,  by  accepting  less  himself  from  the  parish. 

To  that  parish,  first  and  last  and  always,  the  young  man 
felt  that  he  owed  himself.  The  keenest  sense  of  justice 
to  the  people's  rights  ruled  all  the  busy  action.  To  their 
preferences,  all  preferences  of  his  own  must  bend.  The 
feeling  showed  itself  in  delicate  concern  to  meet  their 
wishes  in  little  things,  in  reverence  for  the  usage  of  the 
church,  in  loyalty  to  Dr.  Channing.  Was  any  church- 
custom  to  be  altered,  there  would  be  long  pondering 
and  questioning.  Such  a  letter  as  the  following  reveals 
liim  in  a  very  natural  light :  — 

1831.  "  I  am  anxious  for  a  change  in  respect  to  the  admission 
of  members  to  our  church.  When  I  was  settled,  and  for  some 
years  after  that  time,  I  sincerely  preferred  the  use  of  a  cove- 
nant ;  but  for  several  months  I  have  been  receding  from  that 
ground,  and  now  think  the  use  of  any  creed  or  public  pro- 
fession unscriptural  and  wrong.  Where,  hoAvevcr,  the  people 
from  opinion  or  habit  are  attached  to  the  form,  and  more 
harm  than  good  would  come  from  laying  it  aside,  I  would 
not  urge  its  sudden  relinquishment.  But  I  do  wish  the 
minister  was  authorized  to  admit  any  one  whom  he  pleased, 
on  the  simple  expression  of  a  desire  to  commanicate.  I 
could  then  say,  and  feel,  that  we  have  a  covenant  which  those 
may  acknowledge  who  like  such  a  form,  but  no  im|)ediment 
is  raised  before  those  who  think  the  table  should  be  free  to 


96  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

nil  Christians.  You  will  remember  that  the  committee  on 
one  branch  of  this  subject  have  never  reported.  I  hope  on 
your  return  you  will  consent  to  the  discussion  of  the  whole 
subject,  and  I  shall  rejoice  if  your  views  should  accord  with 
mine.  I  need  not  add  I  should  not  propose  any  change  with- 
out your  approbation." 

Twice  in  the  course  of  these  first  twelve  years  Mr. 
Gannett  was  asked  to  leave  his  people.  To  both  offers 
he  listened  against  his  wishes,  till  he  felt  sure  that  duty 
bade  him  stay,  not  go.  The  first  asking  was  in  1827,  — 
a  unanimous  call  from  the  new  "  Second  "  Society  in 
New  York  City  to  become  their  pastor.  When  it  w^as 
known  that  he  had  received  it,  the  men  with  one  voice 
passed  a  vote  begging  him  to  "  relieve  their  solicitude 
by  giving  an  early  answer  declining  the  invitation ;  " 
while  the  ladies  hurried  from  house  to  house  signing  a 
long  paper  with  their  names.  He  suffered  a  good  deal 
while  in  doubt.  ''  Give  me  your  advice  frankly,  as  the 
friend  you  have  always  been,"  he  writes  his  old  chum, 
Kent.  "  If  I  look  at  personal  happiness,  I  shall  sta}^  in 
Boston  ;  but  usefulness  and  duty,  —  these  are  the  points 
on  which  the  decision  should  rest,  and  on  these  I  am  in 
the  dark.  I  shall  be  guided  by  the  advice  of  others." 
Finally  he  sent  word.  No.  But  that  did  not  prevent  the 
New  Yqj'k  friends  from  hoping  for  awhile  and  waiting 
for  a  second  word.  Their  new  society  was  regarded  as 
very  important  to  the  Unitarian  cause ;  and  they  believed, 
with  reason,  that  loyalty  to  that  cause  would  overcome 
all  preferences. 

Five  years  later,  in  1832,  the  American  Unitarian 
Association,  which  had  l)y  that  time  fairly  won  its  way 
to  favor  and  was  preparing  to  enter  on  larger  work, 
wished  him  to  take  the  field  as  their  Genera]  Agent.  It 
was  a  new  office,  and  he  was  the  first  one  chosen  to  fill 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  97 

it,  —  chosen  unanimously.  It  would  require  a  man's 
entire  time  and  energy.  Again  he  earnestly  considered 
the  question  of  duty,  and  again  his  people  turned  the 
scale. 

Such  invitations  suggest  that  the  young  minister  in 
Federal  Street  had  won  some  reputation  in  his  denomi- 
nation. As  we  turn  from  the  parish  to  watch  him  in 
extra-parochial  relations,  we  find  ourselves  again  in  face 
of  Unitarian  history,  and  pause  awhile  to  fill  in  the 
background  with  that  history. 

When  Mr.  Gannett  came  to  Boston,  he  found,  as  has 
been  said,  the  elements  of  the  new  denomination  all 
present,  —  a  name,  definite  doctrines,  a  body  of  con- 
scious believers  ready  to  give  reasons  for  their  faith,  out- 
spoken teachers,  a  recognized  leader,  a  newspaper,  and 
a  review ;  but  the  elements  had  not  yet  assumed  organic 
form  as  a  sect.  He  came  just  in  time  to  lend  his  touch 
at  the  shaping  moment. 

Long  afterwards,  in  1860,  he  thus  describes  the  broth- 
erhood of  which  he  then  became  a  member :  — 

"Thirty-six  years  ago  I  met  in  this  ministerial  circle  Dr. 
Porter,  of  Roxbury,  wise,  calm,  sententious,  from  whose  re- 
mark in  one  of  our  discussions  I  have  tried  to  draw  comfort 
ever  since,  —  '  A  minister  should  feel  that  he  does  no  small 
amount  of  good  in  preventing  the  evil  which  would  show 
itself,  if  he  were  not  in  his  place ; '  Dr.  Freeman,  sensibly 
feeling  the  infirmities  of  age,  but  with  a  mind  that  years  had 
only  ripened,  and  a  heart  that  never  grew  old ;  Dr.  Harris, 
of  Dorchester,  the  faithful  pastor  and  diligent  student,  sensi- 
tive, tender,  and  devout ;  Dr.  Pierce,  of  Brookline,  always 
laden  with  facts,  and  always  prompt  with  kind  greetings; 
Dr.  Gray,  who  never  dreaded  the  truth,  but  who  loved  har- 
mony more  than  controvei*sy  ;  Dr.  Tuckerman,  then  minister 

*^7 


98  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

at  Cliclsca,  where  lie  was  preparing  himself  for  the  work  that 
has  spread  his  name  through   Christendom ;  Dr.  Richmond, 
gentle,   urbane,   modest ;   Dr.    Channing,  who  came  to  the 
meetings  but  seldom,  but  when  present  showed  his  interest 
in  our  purposes ;  Dr.  Lowell,  always  genial,  always  fliithful, 
whose  affectionate  notes  from  his  retirement  at  Elmwood 
show  an  interest  which  he  has  never  lost  in  us.     Of  the  men 
whom  I  accounted  venerable  as  I  looked  on  their  grave  faces 
,  and  mature  forms,  he  alone  remains.     Of  those  who  stood  on 
a  lower  plane  of  age,  but  were  regarded  with  little  less  of 
timid  respect,  one  still  gives  us  the  light  of  his  benignant 
countenance  and  the  warmth  of  his  cordial  sympathy  (Dr. 
Frothingham),  though  he  has  chosen  to  withdraw  himself 
from  our  professional  labors.     Parkman  was  with  us,  full  of 
terse  sayings,  and  often  disturbing  me  by  a  quotation  from 
Scripture  so  apt  that  its  pertinency  made  its  irreverence  ;  Mr. 
Pierpont,  earnest,  ready,  eloquent ;  Henry  Ware,  whose  place 
in  our  hearts  is  indicated  by  the  constancy  with  which  we 
spoke  of  him  under  his  Christian  name,  and  who  could  always 
be  relied  on  for  co-oi)eration  in  every  measure  that  aimed  at 
personal  or  social  improvement ;  Palfrey,  then  as  industrious 
in  his  clerical  service,  and  as  upright  in  his  purposes,  as  he 
has  been  laborious  and  consistent  ever  since;  Greenwood, 
delicate  in  health,  sweet  in  temper,  spiiitual  in  his  tastes,  re- 
fined in  his  habits ;  Walker,  sturdy  in  mind,  as  true  as  steel, 
and  as  fraternal  as  he  was  honest,  —  he  who  is  now  the  candid 
hearer  where  he  was  once  the  careful  preacher ;  and  others 
wlio  took  a  less  frequent  or  less  earnest  part  in  our  meetings. 
"These  meetings  were   held  then,  as  now,  twice    every 
month,  at  our  several  houses.     We  were  more  punctual  in 
attendance  than  of  late  years,  and  came  together,  as  it  seemed 
to  me,  rather  for  friendly  conversation  than  for  deliberate 
discussion.     Dr.  Lowell  and  Dr.  Pierce  were  the  first  to  ap- 
pear; and  more  of  ecclesiastical  news  and  more  of  the  results 
of  our  professional  experience  were  exchanged  between  us 
than  at  present.     The  older  members  preferred  the  agreeable 


1824-1836.]  MORNING  WORK.  99 

and  desultory  talk  which  was  a  refreshment  after  the  exer- 
tions of  Sunday  ;  while  the  younger  brethren  made  successive 
—  and  successful  — attempts  to  turn  the  afternoon  to  a  more 
profitable  use.  .  .  . 

"  The  most  distinct  among  the  impressions  which  I  retain 
of  the  years  in  which  I  was  one  of  the  younger  members  of 
this  body  relates  to  the  character  of  our  intercourse  with  one 
another.  It  was  free,  frank,  cordial,  and  healthy  to  a  most 
remarkable  degree.  Difference  of  age,  of  opinion,  of  taste, 
of  situation,  produced  no  estrangement  nor  coolness.  Discus- 
sions in  which  we  maintained  opposite  views  caused  no  heart- 
burning or  ungenerous  criticism.  The  playful  remark,  often 
bearing  a  sharp  point,  or  the  severe  dissent  honestly  expressed, 
if  it  inflicted  a  momentary  pain,  only  became  the  occasion  of 
a  more  hearty  confidence.  Perhaps  distance  throws  a  false 
light  over  those  days ;  but  I  love  to  look  back  on  the  mutual 
respect  and  bold  trust  which  marked  our  social  relations  at 
that  time  as  almost  without  a  parallel  among  ecclesiastical 
men ;  and  I  well  remember  the  surprise  created  twenty  years 
ago,  at  a  meeting  of  ministers  in  England,  when  I  described 
to  them  the  harmony  which  reigned  over  all  our  diversities 
of  thought  and  feeling,  and  the  unction  of  which  was  then 
fresh  on  my  heart.  .  .  . 

"  If  I  were  called  to  lay  down  a  rule  for  every  meeting,  it 
should  be  moved  to  give  this  rule  precedence  over  every 
othjer,  —  that  every  one  present  should  say  something.  I 
know  I  express  the  wish  of  th<3  older  part  of  the  Association 
when  I  entreat  the  younger  brethren  to  enter  into  the  dis- 
cussion as  promptly  and  as  fully  as  the  oldest  or  the  wisest 
in  the  room.  There  is  a  wisdom  of  youth  as  well  as  of 
age :  we  want  them  both.  The  modesty  which  keeps  the 
younger  portion  of  our  circle  silent  is  of  comparatively  recent 
date.  It  did  not  close  the  lips  of  the  junior  members  of  our 
body  thirty  years  ago,  —  as  I  have  occasion  to  remember, 
with  a  sense  of  personal  presumption  indeed,  yet  not  without 
a  feeling  of  approval  for  those  who  threw  themselves  upon 


100  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1824-1836. 

the  privileges  of  an  occasion,  even  at  some  risk  of  incurring  a 
gentle  rebuke.  Such  rebuke,  however,  if  it  ever  came,  was 
very  gentle." 

Many  of  the  names  in  the  list  above  are  those  of  the 
Fathers  of  Unitarianism,  whose  ministries  began  while 
the  Puritan  Church  of  New  England  was  yet  unbroken, 
and  who,  from  being  Liberals  and  Arians  then,  found 
themselves  compelled  to  side  with  the  heretics  as  events 
ripened  to  the  schism.  Not  far  off  in  the  country,  shar- 
ing with  these  the  fathership,  were  Drs.  Bancroft  at 
Worcester,  Ripley  at  Concord,  Thayer  at  Lancaster, 
Prince  at  Salem,  Abbot  at  Beverly,  Parker  at  Ports- 
mouth, and  Kendall  at  Plymouth,  —  all  men  of  weight, 
whose  impress  lingers  yet  upon  their  towns.  The  elder 
Ware,  Dr.  Kirkland,  and  Professor  Norton  were  con- 
nected with  the  College ;  and  Worcester,  the  "  apostle 
of  peace,"  lived  close  by  at  Brighton.  Dr.  Channing 
was  among  the  younger  of  these  elders.  His  two  most 
brilliant  contemporaries,  Buckminster  and  Thacher,  had 
died  young,  leaving  him  as  an  intellect  comparatively 
alone  in  a  midway  position  between  the  white-haired 
and  the  dark-haired  men,  —  a  fact  which  had  something 
to  do  with  his  leadership  in  the  movement.  The  younger 
ministers  —  those  whose  active  life  began  about  the  year 
of  crisis,  1815,  and  who  were  to  do  champions'  work  for 
their  faith  in  New  England  —  were  Walker,  Palfrey, 
Pierpont,  Henry  Ware  the  son,  and  Dewey.  William 
Ware  and  Oilman  had  gone  to  outpost  duty  at  New 
York  and  Charleston  respectively.  Jared  Sparks  had 
just  left  Baltimore,  after  valiant  service  there.  At  Phil- 
adelphia, a  little  group  of  Liberals  were  soon  to  welcome 
Gannett's  classmate,  Furness,  as  their  minister ;  and  at 
Washington  still  another  handful  were  wont  to  greet 
each  other  at  a  Sunday  service. 


1824-1836.]  MORNING  WORK.  101 

The  Liberal  Churclies  were  slow  to  organize  them- 
selves into  a  distinct  party ;  but  the  subject  of  organi- 
zation was  growing  in  thought  and  on  the  lips.  The 
elder  ministers,  those  who  had  resisted  the  break  with 
Orthodoxy,  continued,  as  a  body,  lukewarm  or  opposed. 
Did  they  not  know  the  evils  of  sectarianism  ?  Were 
tliey  not  exiles  from  their  homestead  of  faith  through 
its  malignity?  Had  they  not  for  twenty  years  past 
been  protesting  against  exclusion  in  religion  ?  and 
now  should  they  draw  lines  around  themselves  ?  To 
the  end  of  their  long  ministries,  —  and  some  of  these 
Fathers  died  after  fifty  years'  connection  with  a  single 
parish,  —  such  men  preferred  the  name  of  Liberal  or 
Catholic  Christians  to  that  of  Unitarians.  Norton  also, 
though  in  favor  of  outspoken  literature,  pointing  to 
Grotius,  LeClerc,  and  Locke  as  exemplars  of  the  true 
method  of  influence,  was  strongly  opposed  to  any  formal 
name-taking  and  combination  ;  yet  he  and  Channing 
were  among  the  number  who  thought  that  some  slight 
bond  of  association,  if  that  were  possible,  might  be 
useful.  But  the  younger  men,  believing  that  the  time 
was  fulfilled,  were  eager  to  press  forward.  They  knew 
the  danger,  but  meant  to  escape  it.  They  did  hope 
to  make  a  sect  without  sectarianism.  They  thought 
lines  could  be  safely  drawn  ;  for  had  they  not  the 
"fundamentals"  common  to  all  sects?  and  did  not 
Professor  Norton's  principles  of  Bible  criticism  cover 
all  possible  advance  ?  Could  there  be  any  thing  beyond 
Unitarianism  claiming  to  be  Christian  ?  And  certainly 
they  could  not  hope  to  do  effective  work  without  organ- 
ization. Mr.  Gannett  at  once  threw  in  his  heart  and 
hand  and  voice  with  these. 

In  January,  1825,  an  invitation  was  issued  to  certain 
prominent  ministers  and  laymen  to  meet  in  Dr.  Chan- 


102  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT.        [1524-1836. 

ning's  vestry,  and  "  confer  together  on  the  expediency 
of  appointing  an  annual  meeting  for  the  purpose  of 
union,  sympathy,  and  co-operation  in  the  cause  of  Chris- 
tian truth  and  Cliristian  charity."  Of  some  thirty  gen- 
tlemen who  responded  to  the  call  in  person  or  by  letter, 
most,  but  not  all,  liked  the  suggestion,  and  the  minority 
was  probably  large  enough  to  make  the  others  hesitate. 

Four  months  passed  by.  "  Anniversary  Week  "  came 
round,  bringing  to  Boston,  as  usual,  many  ministers 
and  earnest  church-men  from  the  country.  It  was 
suddenly  decided  by  those  most  deeply  interested  to  use 
the  opportunity  for  action.  A  meeting  was  called,  and 
the  proposal  made  to  form  some  bond  of  co-operation 
between  the  Unitarian  Christians  of  the  United  States. 
The  discussion  now  showed  a  heartier  welcome  for 
the  measure.  On  the  next  day  a  Constitution  was 
adopted,  officers  were  chosen,  and  the  American  Uni- 
tarian Association  came  into  being.  Dr.  Bancroft,  one 
of  the  elders,  was  willing  to  accept  the  Presidency; 
influential  laymen  appeared  as  Vice-Presidents ;  and 
with  them,  as  Executive  Committee  to  do  the  work, 
were  joined  young  men  earnest  in  the  cause,  —  James 
"VValker  and  Henry  Ware,  Jr.,  who  had  both  been 
prominent  in  the  preliminary  movement,  Samuel  Bar- 
rett, Lewis  Tappan,  and  Ezra  S.  Gannett.  The  last 
was  chosen  Secretary  ;  and  it  is  said  that  he  drew  up 
the  simple  Constitution.  "-  His  whole  soul  is  in  it,"  wrote 
Henry  Ware  just  after  the  event. 

Some  twenty  years  later,  Mr.  Gannett  thus  describes 
the  motive  of  the  founders  :  — 

"The  American  Unitarian  Association  had  its  origin,  not 
in  a  sectarian  j^urpose,  but  in  a  desire  to  promote  the  increase 
of  religion  in  the  land.  Other  denominations  had  their  so- 
cieties, to  wliich  the  pecuniary  contributions  of  Unitarians 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  103 

might  be  paid,  but  in  the  management  of  which  they  were 
allowed  to  have  no  voice.  The  officers  of  these  societies  con- 
nected the  propagation  of  tenets,  which  we  account  false, 
with  whatever  measures  of  general  utility  they  might  adopt. 
"We  found  ourselves  placed  under  the  painful  necessity  of  con- 
tributing our  assistance  to  the  diffusion  of  such  views,  or  of 
forming  an  Association  through  which  we  might  address  the 
great  truths  of  religion  to  our  fellow-men,  without  the  adulter- 
ation of  erroneous  dogmas.  To  take  one  of  these  two  courses, 
or  to  do  nothing  in  the  way  of  Christian  beneficence,  was 
the  only  alternative  permitted  us.  The  name  which  was 
adopted  has  a  sectarian  sound.  But  it  was  chosen  to  avoid 
equivocation  on  the  one  hand,  and  misapprehension  on  the 
other." 

He  surprised  Dr.  Channing,  summering  at  Newport, 
with  the  news.     The  answer  came  :  — 

"  I  was  a  little  disappointed  at  learning  that  the  General 
Unitarian  Association  is  to  commence  its  operations  imme- 
diately. I  conversed  with  Mr.  Norton  on  the  subject  before 
leaving  Boston,  and  found  him  so  indisposed  to  engage  in  it 
that  I  imagined  it  would  be  let  alone  for  the  present.  The 
office  which  in  your  kindness  you  have  assigned  to  me  I  must 
beg  to  decline.  As  you  have  made  a  beginning,  I  truly 
rejoice  in  your  success." 

Funds  did  not  overflow  the  treasury.  The  first  year's 
income  amounted  to  not  quite  flSOO.  In  Boston  itself 
only  sixty-five  friends  offered  the  annual  subscription. 
All  was  tentative.  Such  definite  action  was  contrary 
to  Liberal  precedents.  The  officers  could  attempt 
little  more  than  the  publishing  of  a  few  tracts,  a  com- 
mission to  a  solitary  scout  to  go  into  the  back  parts  of 
Pennsylvania  and  Ohio,  and  report  "  the  demand  for 
Unitarianism  in  the  West,"  the  partial  ado2:)tion  of  a 
missionary  to  the  city  poor,  and  a  vigorous  anniversary 


104  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

meeting  in  the  grand  muster-week  of  spring,  when  all 
the  ecclesiasticism  of  the  State  appeared  upon  parade 
in  Boston.  The  Unitarians  were  outcasts,  and  the  cast- 
ing out  was  still  in  process.  Dr.  Channing  could  con- 
gratulate them  at  their  third  anniversary  on  the  cheering 
sight  of  so  many  persons  not  ashamed  to  assemble  on 
such  an  occasion  and  for  such  purposes.  Judge  Story 
thrice  appeared  in  as  many  years  to  make  the  plea  for 
religious  liberty,  and  to  reiterate  that  the  Association 
had  its  highest  claim  to  favor,  not  as  a  powerful  means 
of  diffusing  a  certain  set  of  religious  opinions,  but  as  an 
instrument  for  maintaining  the  rights  of  conscience, 
freedom  of  inquiry,  and  the  common  principles  of  Prot- 
estantism. For  a  time  of  such  hot  attack,  compelling 
self-defence,  much  good  temper  was  displayed  at  these 
early  meetings  ;  but  great  determination  too.  A  positive, 
practical  spirit  appeared.  They  faced  the  future,  and 
were  not  to  be  put  down  by  outcry.  How  could  they 
spread  the  truth?  was  the  main  question. 

The  process  of  organization  went  on.  The  ''  Christian 
Disciple  "  had  just  given  place  to  the  "  Christian  Ex- 
aminer," which  began  its  examinations  with  a  bold- 
ness that  made  good  the  name.  Within  the  next  few 
years  the  '*  Liberal  Preacher,"  the  "  Christian  Teacher's 
Manual,"  the  "•  Unitarian,"  the  "  Unitarian  Advocate," 
the  ""  Unitarian  Essayist,"  the  "  Unitarian  Christian," 
the  "Philanthropist,"  still  another  ''Unitarian,"  and  the 
"  Scriptural  Interpreter,"  started  up  and  spent  short 
lives  of  zeal,  as  one  man  after  another  felt  a  call  upon 
him.  Young  men  in  Boston  formed  a  ''  Christian  Book 
and  Pamplilet  Society*  to  circulate  gratuitously  the 
Unitarian  publications.  The  Sunday  School  Society 
followed.  A  building  for  the  Divinity  School  at  Har- 
vard College  was  erected  in  182G  ;  and  in  the  same  year, 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  105 

at  the  dedication  of  the  Second  Unitarian  Church  in 
New  York,  Dr.  Channing  preached  another  famous  ser- 
mon on  the  new  faith,  —  this  time  to  vindicate  it  as 
"  the  system  most  favorable  to  piety."  His  pkin,  strong 
words  contrasted  its  tendencies  with  those  of  Trinitarian 
Calvinism  in  a  way  that  startled  friends  and  shocked  and 
angered  all  opponents.  The  latter  have  never  yet  for- 
given him  his  reference  to  '*  tlie  central  gallows  of  the 
universe." 

In  spite  of  these  signs  of  progress,  Unitarianism  began 
to  feel  a  check.  The  formation  of  the  American  Uni- 
tarian Association  may  be  said  to  nearly  mark  the  end 
of  that  rapid  advance  which  had  seemed  at  first  like 
actual  triumph,  and  flushed  the  talk  of  the  Boston  min- 
isters with  hope. 

The  chief  cause  of  the  check  lay,  doubtless,  in  the 
simple  fact  that,  during  the  decade  now  gone  by  since 
the  year  of  crisis,  almost  all  the  Liberal  sentiment  ac- 
cumulated through  two  long  generations,  that  could  be 
appropriated  by  this  special  movement,  had  already  been 
appropriated  ;  and  cultured  Rationalism,  by  its  very 
nature,  can  never  quickly  generate  fresh  material.  The 
blossoming  had  been  rapid,  because  the  blossom-moment 
had  been  so  long  deferred.  But  Unitarianism,  it  proved, 
was  to  spread  in  no  wide-flashing  spring.  It  was  intel- 
lectual, it  made  public-spirited  citizens,  dutiful  lives,  wise 
philanthropy,  common-sense  preaching.  It  Avas  found 
not  rarely  with  true  spirituality  of  mind.  But  it  was 
seldom  found  with  warm  expressive  feelings,  and  what 
excited  little  apparent  enthusiasm  even  among  its  own 
followers  would  fail,  of  course,  to  touch  the  general 
heart.  As  a  system  of  thought,  it  was  too  intelligible. 
It  lacked  the  mysticism  which  the  religious  imagination 
commonly  demands  as  room  to  play  in.     Its  negations 


106  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.  [1S24-1836. 

were  very  distinct ;  and  its  positive  ideas,  in  spite  of 
Dr.  Channing's  showing  that  they  ought  not  to,  must 
needs  seem  meagre  and  cold  to  those  who  were  wont  to 
gaze  on  a  God  that  once  stood  in  the  midst  of  men,  and 
bore  their  nature  with  them,  and  suffered  for  them  in  that 
great  love-spectacle  set  between  the  earth  and  heavens. 
For  such  believers,  Election,  Total  Depravity,  Eternal 
Punishment,  were  swallowed  up  in  the  glory  of  the  In- 
carnation and  the  almighty  love  of  the  Atonement.  If 
Unitarianism  were  shorn  of  unreason  for  the  few,  it  was 
also  shorn  of  power  for  the  multitude.  Because  more 
than  other  systems  it  embodied  reason,  its  presence  was 
henceforth  to  influence,  like  reason,  as  a  leaven,  — 
not  begetting  Unitarians  so  much  as  modifying  Ortho- 
doxy.  There  still  was  open  growth  indeed,  but  from 
this  time  forward  slow  growth.  In  the  back  counties 
of  Massachusetts  it  was  hardship  long  after  1825  to 
bear  the  name,  and  outside  of  New  England  to  take  it 
was  to  court  social  ostracism.  Even  in  its  native  haunt, 
it  soon  became  evident  that  Unitarianism,  relatively  to 
the  neighbor-sects,  was  losing  influence.  The  country 
population  came  flocking  towards  the  city  in  greater 
crowds  each  year,  bringing  with  them  ever  fresh  sup- 
plies of  the  home-bred  Puritanic  faith ;  and  the  dozen 
old  city  churches  that  had  given  up  that  faith  were 
speedily  outnumbered  by  the  new  ones  that  retained  it. 
What  now  happened  on  a  small  scale  in  New  Eng- 
land recalls  what  happened  on  a  large  scale  in  the  early 
days  of  Protestantism,  —  save  that  not  now,  as  then,  was 
much  ground  lost  that  had  once  been  won.  Protestant 
worship  then  proved  less  satisfying,  and  the  doctrines 
less  inspirhig,  than  their  advocates  had  hoped.  Thus 
it  was,  as  we  have  just  said,  with  New  England  Uni- 
tarianism.     The    Ptoman   Catholics   partially  reformed 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  107 

themselves  at  Trent:  thus,  too,  the  New  England 
Calvinists.  They  had  already  a  little  improved  their 
dogmas,  and  now  began  more  openly  to  avow  the  im- 
provements ;  3^et  not  without  something  that  looked  like 
evasion  in  regard  to  past  interpretation.  Fifteen  years 
before  it  had  been  hard  to  discover  what  "  Liberalism  " 
really  was  :  now  what  was  "  Calvinism  "  ?  "  The  term 
Calvinistic  for  this  party,"  said  Mr.  Gannett,  in  his  Fast- 
day  sermon  of  1828,  "  is  objectionable,  because  it  con- 
veys no  definite  idea.  There  is  Calvinism  of  every  hue, 
from  consistent  Hopkinsianism  to  the  chameleon-like 
Calvinism  of  some  living  preachers.  If  the  Genevan 
reformer  could  appear  among  us,  he  might  rejoice  at 
the  inroads  which  common-sense  and  good  feeling  have 
made  upon  his  system ;  but  he  would,  methinks,  be  not 
a  little  amazed  at  the  constancy  with  which  his  name 
attended  this  changeable  faith."  Unitarians  refuting 
the  old  "•  points  "  were  liable  to  be  complained  of  in  one 
breath  for  misrepresenting,  and  perhaps  were  told  that 
this  or  that  dogma  never  had  existed ;  in  the  next,  the 
time-honored  creed  was  reasserted  "  true  for  substance." 
Thrice  they  had  to  prove  to  their  reluctant  neighbors 
that,  according  to  Calvin  and  his  apostles,  the  creeds 
did  mean,  in  spite  of  all  denial,  certain  horrors  which 
many  in  New  England  now  were  willing  to  repudiate. 
The  change  in  meaning  was  admirable,  but  it  did  not 
seem  fair  to  appeal  to  the  familiar  phrases  and  ignore  it. 
And  finally,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  a  great  flame  of 
zeal  burst  forth  in  the  new  order  of  Jesuits.  So  now 
the  zeal  of  the  Orthodox  rekindled,  and  Lyman  Beecher 
was  their  Loyola.  A  revival  began  in  Boston  as  early 
as  1822-28,  and  was  eagerly  watched  by  friends  outside, 
who  hoped  to  see  it  absorb  the  strength  of  the  schism. 
Lyman  Beecher  watched  from  Connecticut  till  he  could 


108  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1S2 1-1836. 

stand  no  longer  a  mere  looker-on.  He  came  to  Boston, 
first  as  helper,  then  in  1826  to  live,  and  his  presence 
meant  fire  and  fight.  The  shattered  ranks  closed  up. 
Church-bells  rang  out  of  hours  for  novel  meetings. 
Neighborhood  conferences  met  from  house  to  house. 
Sunday  schools  and  Bible  classes  were  put  in  training 
to  educate  hostility  to  heresy.  Beecher  brought  the 
''  Spirit  of  the  Pilgrims  "  in  his  heart,  and  soon  threw 
it  into  a  magazine  thus  christened,  which  far  excelled 
the  early  '^  Panoplist,"  in  unremitting  vigor  of  attack. 
"  The  Boston  Recorder  "  by  its  side  also  bristled  with 
denunciation.  A  fierce  revival  raged  in  Central  New 
York,  —  raged  until  even  Beecher,  who  at  first  had 
hailed  it  as  the  Lord's  presence  in  the  land,  led  the 
warning  against  its  coarse  excesses.  Only  against  such 
excesses:  against  Unitarianism  in  its  stronghold  the 
siege  was  as  hotly  urged  as  ever.  Its  preachers  were 
now  debarred  from  taking  their  usual  turn  in  the  Annual 
Convention  Sermon.  Its  members  were  charged,  from 
one  quarter,  with  usurping  an  undue  share  of  the  offi- 
ces of  State,  and  from  another  with  altering  the  consti- 
tution of  the  Harvard  Theological  School  so  as  to  seal 
it  to  their  sect.  A  form  of  trust-deed  was  devised  to 
secure  church-property  against  future  perversion  by 
heresy.  All  the  while  church-breaks  were  going  on  in 
one  village  or  another;  and  now  and  then  a  fiercer  feud 
than  usual,  like  the  one  at  Groton  and  that  in  the  First 
Cambridge  Parish,  drove  gusts  of  angry  feeling  far  and 
wide. 

''  The  Unitarian  controversy  "  lasted  about  ten  years 
after  flie  American  Unitarian  Association  was  formed, 
and  the  first  half  of  this  period  held  the  bitterest  years 
of  all.  AVhat  Ware  and  Woods,  what  Norton  and 
Stuart  wrote,  was  little  and  mild  compared  to  what  had 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK,  109 

since  been  written  or  was  written  now.  Boston,  New 
York,  Baltimore,  and  Princeton,  —  city  ministers,  coun- 
try parsons,  and  laym^en,  — editors,  pamphleteers,  and 
correspondents,  even  children,  took  public  part  in  it. 
Both  sides  were  sadly  violent ;  for  each  felt  outraged 
by  the  other,  and  each  believed  itself  to  have  a  sacred 
cause  in  charge,  —  the  one,  salvation  by  the  atoning 
blood ;  the  other,  liberty  for  reason  in  religion.  For  a 
while  the  Unitarians  repelled  the  attack.  Besides  their 
energy  in  print,  the  ministers  in  many  a  village  meeting- 
house, like  Dr.  Channing  in  his  famous  sermons,  were 
busied  in  refuting  Orthodoxy,  discussing  the  nature  of 
"  heresy,"defending  the  rights  of  reason  in  religion,  and 
setting  forth  the  excellence  of  the  Unitarian  system. 
As  the  quarrel  grew  more  personal  and  angry,  there 
came  a  feeling  of  revulsion.  This  was  not  Christianity 
at  any  rate.  The  "Examiner"  and  the  ''Register" 
sighed  for  peace,  and  both  gave  notice  that  thenceforth 
they  should  try  to  keep  it.  Sermons  against  contro- 
versy were  preached  and  published.  But  there  was  no 
peace.  It  was  not  possible  so  soon.  Personalities  more 
gross,  insinuations  more  libellous,  and  "  coalitions " 
more  dangerous  and  determined  than  ever  before  to  put 
down  Unitarianism,  were  indignantly  denounced  in  the 
Unitarian  Association's  Report  for  1829.  The  next 
year  Dr.  Channing  for  a  fourth  time  roused  ire.  His 
Election  Sermon  spoke  of  modern  forms  of  "  Inqui- 
sition ; "  and  the  preface  to  his  volume  of  sermons,  the 
first  volume  he  ever  printed,  held  other  words  as  strong. 
Professor  Stuart  from  Andover  addressed  him  an  earnest 
''  Letter  on  Religious  Liberty,"  and  turned  upon  the 
Unitarians  themselves  their  favorite  weapon,  accusing 
tliem  of  violating  religious  liberty  by  their  flagrant 
misrepresentations  of  Orthodoxy,  and  these  reiterated 


no  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

charges  of  bigotry  and  superstition  and  dark  designs  to 
put  down  free  inquiry.  Bernard  Whitman  sharply  an- 
swered the  Letter.  A  number  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Pil- 
grims "  was  devoted  to  refuting  him ;  to  Avhich  he  wrote  a 
second  thick  answer  to  present  the  proofs,  and  dared  de- 
nial, — lie  could  furnish  more.  Whitman's  two  pamphlets 
contain  a  Unitarian  chronicle  of  the  Orthodox  misdeeds 
throughout  the  whole  long  controversy.  It  is  arranged 
in  a  systematic  indictment,  each  head  giving  details  of 
the  parish  scandals,  and  altogether  makes  no  pleasant 
reading.  Dr.  Channing  wrote  from  Santa  Cruz  to  Mr. 
Gannett :  ''  I  am  humbled  when  I  think  that  such  a  book 
is  needed,  —  if  indeed  it  be.  ...  I  may  carry  my  aver- 
sion to  personal  warfare  too  far.  Certainly  it  is  not 
my  element.  ...  I  can  fight  for  or  against  ojyinions, 
but  I  wish  to  detach  them  from  the  men  who  hold 
them.  Others  must  judge  for  themselves  ;  but  my  own 
love  of  truth  and  capacity  for  discovering  it  are  not 
aided  by  mixing  up  private  friendship  or  enmity  with 
the  matter  under  discussion." 

But  now  the  end  was  near.  Only  one  more  shot  of 
consequence  was  fired,  — "  Cheever's  Vituperations," 
which  blazed  out  from  Salem  in  1883. 

By  that  time  church-breaking  had  nearly  ceased,  the 
exiles  were  settling  down  in  their  new  meeting-houses, 
and  local  bitterness  began  to  subside.  In  all,  about  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  parishes  changed  faith  and 
name.  As  tlie  two  parties  became  organically  distinct, 
and  Unitaiianism  lost  proselyting  power,  while  its  zeal 
in  home-philanthropy  could  not  be  denied,  its  neighbors 
grew  more  silent,  —  perhaps  in  sign  of  settled  pity 
rather  than  of  reconciliation.  Under  the  pity,  however, 
the  term  "  Christian  "  began  to  take  on  that  slow  en- 
largement of  its  meaning  by  which  right  life  comes  to 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  Ill 

receive  more  stress  than  right  belief.  Each  party,  too, 
discerned  fresh  divergences  appearing  within  itself  to 
occupy  attention.  The  long  controversy  had,  mean- 
vi^hile,  helped  to  enlighten  public  opinion  as  to  the 
relations  of  Church  and  State:  in  1833,  when  the  Con- 
stitution of  Massachusetts  was  amended,  the  civil  and  the 
ecclesiastical  affairs  were  separated  as  they  never  yet 
had  been  among  these  children  of  the  Puritans.  The 
church-tax  levied  on  all  voters  was  given  up,  the  sup- 
port of  ministers  became  henceforth  wholly  voluntary, 
and  "  First  Parishes  "  lost  their  old-time  prerogatives. 

All  this  time  the  two  sister-sects  of  Unitarianism,  the 
'Universalists  and  the  ''  Christians,"  were  also  winning 
way ;  in  New  England,  chiefly  the  former  of  the  two. 
The  voice  of  its  champions  in  press  and  pulpit,  and  of 
sturdy  village-propagandists,  gave  forth  no  uncertain 
sound.  But  its  literary  field  still  lay  apart  from  that  of 
Unitarians.  It  maintained  its  evangelical  and  democratic 
character,  making  appeal  to  a  class  that  would  only 
have  been  offended  by  the  high  cold  rationalism  of  the 
Boston  set.  And  the  Boston  set  from  its  side  was 
little  disposed  to  fraternize.  The  pecuKar  Universalist 
doctrine  had  now  assumed  two  forms.  According  to 
one  form,  all  of  earth's  sinners  were  sure  of  final  bliss, 
but  only  after  due  discipline  of  future  retribution.  Ac- 
cording to  the  other,  —  and  thus  believed  most  Univer- 
salists  in  1830,  —  sin  knew  no  penalty  beyond  the  grave ; 
death  brought  immediate  happiness.  The  Unitarians 
held  that  the  Scriptures  kept  a  silence  about  "  restora- 
tion," which  they  were  therefore  bound  to  imitate ;  or, 
if,  on  any  ground,  they  avowed  disbelief  in  eternal  tor- 
ture, they  felt  no  special  enthusiasm  over  the  denial. 
But  the  more  popular  doctrine  —  salvation  instantane- 
ous as  well  as  universal,  they  held  was  not  unscriptural 


112  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

only,  but  irrational  and  dangerously  immoral.  Against 
that  some  of  the  leading  ministers  were  moved  to  send 
to  print  their  formal  protest. 


The  last  ten  stormy  years  of  the  Unitarian  contro- 
versy very  nearly  cover  the  opening  portion  of  Mr. 
Gannett's  ministry,  —  the  years  with  which  this  chapter 
deals.  He  was,  of  course,  too  young  to  take  a  promi- 
nent part  in  the  literature  of  the  controvers}^,  but  he 
had  all  the  young  man's  enthusiasm  to  defend  and  ex- 
tend the  faith.  The  letters  to  Kent  read  like  those  of 
a  young  bishop  in  training,  —  he  is  so  interested  in  the 
parishes  and  the  candidates,  and  how  to  get  the  right 
man  introduced  to  the  right  place.  His  zeal  in  helping 
to  form  the  Association  has  been  mentioned.  A  goodly 
share  of  its  early  work  fell  to  him  as  Secretary.  To  his 
own  parish  he  presented  its  cause  very  modestly,  owing 
perhaps  to  Dr.  Channing's  minor  interest  in  it.  But 
before  long  he  was  going  about  organizing  auxiliary 
societies  in  the  neighboring  towns. 

"  I  don't  like  to  preach  before  the  ministers,  but  if  it  will 
help  the  Unitarian  Association  I  will  do  it ;  otherwise,  No." 

Sept.  16,  1827.  "At  Waltham,  in  Whitman's  church,  to 
foiTn  auxiUary  of  American  Unitarian  Association  ;  made  an 
address  of  more  than  an  hour.  Thirtyrsix  members.  $52.00 
subscribed  this  evening." 

And  thus  at  Dedham,  Lexington,  Medford,  and  else- 
where. One  of  Dr.  Channing's  letters  in  answer  to  the 
request  for  tract-material  deserves  remembrance,  be- 
cause it  shows  from  what  conscientiousness  of  intellect 
his  words  got  that  rare  temper  which  keeps  them  strong 
so  long :  — 


1824-1836.]  MORNING  WORK.  113 

"Aug.  8,  1826. 
"You  gratify  me  by  proposing  to  publish  the  Dudleian 
lecture  as  a  tract.  I  have  not  looked  yet  at  the  sermon 
on  intemperance.  I  am  afraid  you  do  not  quite  understand 
my  feelings  about  publishing  my  sermons.  In  most  of  them 
are  some  positions  which  I  wish  to  consider  more  thor- 
oughly before  giving  them  to  the  press,  —  some  doctrines 
stated  without  proper  limitations,  perhaps  some  great  truths 
very  superficially  stated.  My  objection  to  publishing  is 
that  I  have  not  that  conviction  of  the  truth  of  every  part 
which  is  to  me  the  esseyitial  requisite.  This  is  the  case  with 
the  sermon  on  intemperance.  Some  objections  have  been 
made  to  it,  which  I  have  not  had  time  or  disposition  to 
weigh.  As  to  the  Dudleian  lecture,  though  written  rather 
rapidly,  it  was  the  fruit  of  a  good  deal  of  thought.  I  have 
had  assurances  of  its  doing  good,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  have 
it  spread." 

During  the  first  few  years  the  Secretary  hardly  ever 
ventured  into  print  himself,  save  to  serve  apprentice- 
ship for  a  while  as  one  of  the  editors  of  the  "  Christian 
Register."  He  was  ready  to  do  his  part  in  any  thing. 
"My  strong-hearted  coadjutor"  Henry  Ware  called 
him  in  1826,  as  the  tired  man  rode  off  in  quest  of  the 
health  lost  in  his  own  over-strains  of  labor,  leaving 
"  the  drudgery  of  the  paper "  to  younger  hands.  A 
similar  arrangement  was  again  adopted  a  little  later. 
The  co-editors  had  their  own  good  times.  Long  after- 
wards, over  the  dinner-table  where  the  ''Register"  Avas 
celebrating  its  semi-centennial,  and  Dr.  Gannett  as  a 
father  in  the  denomination  Avas  speaking  of  its  day  of 
small  things,  he  referred  to  this  editorial  experience : 

"I  remember  another  period,  when  there  was  a  sort  of 
combination  editorship,  which  I  am  afraid  was  rather  poor; 
but  we  had  pleasant  times.     There  w^ere  four  or  five  of  us, 

8 


114  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

among  wlioiu  were  Dr.  Barrett  and  George  Ripley,  who 
nnderlook  to  edit  the  paper  by  holding  a  weekly  meeting. 
We  met  together,  and  spent  one  evening  a  w^eek  in  laying 
out  the  matter  for  the  next  week's  paper ;  and  if  our  work 
was  not  as  sacred  as  that  of  another  committee,  which  at 
the  present  time  holds  its  meeting  in  England  for  the  revi- 
sion of  the  Bible,  I  think  we  did  our  work  as  conscientiously ; 
and  this  I  know,  that  neither  heresy  nor  bigotry  ever  dis- 
turbed our  intercourse." 

In  Mr.  Gannett's  eyes  there  was  a  right  and  necessary 
sectarianism  as  well  as  a  wrong  and  dangerous  kind. 
He  believed  in  charity ;  but  that  "  truth  is  the  only 
sure  basis  of  charity,"  and  that  ideas  as  ideas  carried 
force  for  good  and  ill.  Since  his  own  ideas  were  clear 
and  to  himself  momentous,  he  expected  other  thinkers 
to  value  theirs  as  much  and  shape  them  as  precisely; 
and  he  showed  his  intellectual  sjanpathy  wdth  such 
thinkers,  not  by  vague  half-way  accommodation  of  his 
thought  to  theirs,  but  in  hearty  recognition  of  their 
intelligence  and  sincerity  across  the  gulfs  of  difference. 
Negations  came  squarely  from  him,  —  especially  denial 
of  the  Trinit}^  a  doctrine  which  affected  him  as  ''  idola- 
try "  affects  most  Christians  ;  but  it  was  part  of  his  own 
case,  both  in  public  and  in  private,  to  state  an  adver- 
sary's case  at  its  best.  If  his  indignation  w-ere  deliber- 
ate and  deep,  it  summoned  all  the  more  his  truthfulness 
and  justice  into  action.  Personal  denunciation  very 
rarely  esca[)cd  his  lips,  sarcasm  or  ridicule  towards 
religious  opinions  perhaps  never.  He  was  somewhat 
shielded  indeed  from  the  last  temptation  by  having  little 
sense  of  humor ;  but  that  was  not  the  onlj^  reason  why 
he  abstained.  In  the  presence  of  earnest  feeling,  it 
seemed  to  him  contempt ;  and  contempt  was  not  un- 
generous only,  but  unjust  and  irreverent  to  the  spirit  of 
truthfulness. 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  115 

Far  more  than  any  denials,  the  Unitarian  affirma- 
tions received  his  emphasis.  He  loved  to  glorify  the 
faith.  It  was  the  beauty  of  holiness  to  him.  To  draw 
its  doctrines  out  in  systematic  order,  and  describe  them 
operating  on  the  heart  and  life,  was  his  delight,  —  a 
work,  too,  for  which  he  was  well  fitted  b}^  the  fervor 
and  logical  cast  of  his  mind.  Time  and  again  he  re- 
turned to  it,  as  the  years  went  by.  The  love  was  born 
in  these  early  days,  when  such  work  was  essential  to  the 
organization  of  the  new  sect. 

In  this  spirit  he  used  to  preach  a  set  sermon  upon 
Unitarianism  once  or  twice  a  year ;  and  at  the  vestry- 
talks,  in  one  aspect  or  another,  it  much  oftener  fur- 
nished themes.  Sometimes  there  would  be  a  stout 
defence  all  along  the  line,  then  an  argument  for  or 
against  some  special  point,  and  presentl}^  a  stirring 
appeal  to  its  advocates  to  feel  and  live  out  its  high 
demands.  In  August,  1826,  at  the  dedication  of  the 
church  in  Purchase  Street,  the  young  man  preached  an 
admirable  sermon,  long  and  strong,  on  "  Unitarian  Chris- 
tianity Favorable  to  Religious  Zeal,"  —  nearly  the  same 
subject  which  the  elder  colleague  made  famous  a  few 
months  later  in  New  York.  His  first  published  ordina- 
tion sermon  (1831)  was  on  ''Unitarian  Christianity 
Suited  to  Make  Men  Holy."  The  first  published  dedi- 
cation sermon  (1833)  aimed  to  prove  ''  Unitarianism 
Kot  a  Negative  System."  And,  by  that  time  waxing 
bold  in  extempore  speech,  he  gave  a  course  of  lectures, 
elaborately  discussing  those  Orthodox  doctrines  which 
the  Unitarians  reject  or  modify.  The  vestry  over- 
flowed with  listeners  at  once  :  the  speaker  had  to  lead 
them  first  into  a  hall,  at  last  into  the  large  church. 

Some  extracts  from  such  sermons  are  inserted.  They 
show   the    eager    young   champion   committed,    heart, 


116  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.  [1821-1836. 

mind,  and  voice,  to  the  cause  ;  and  they  also  serve  to 
indicate  through  him  the  beliefs  of  the  founders  of  the 
denomination,  the  spirit  in  which  they  worked,  the 
sense  of  duty  and  necessity  which  drove  them  forward 
under  the  attacks  which  they  had  to  meet.  The  Fast 
Day  words  of  1828  come  out  of  a  very  heated  moment 
of  the  controversy,  and  probably  hold  his  most  indignant 
public  utterance.  The  sermon  written  in  1857  to  de- 
fend the  early  Unitarians  against  two  common  charges, 
contentiousness  and  coldness,  gives  a  general  view  of 
these  stirring  years,  as  he  looked  back  on  them  long 
afterwards. 

1827.  The  Name  ^''Unitarian  Christianity P  —  "This 
appellation  —  till  within  a  few  years  as  strange  as  it  was 
odious  even  in  this  part  of  our  country,  but  now  gladly  borne 
by  many  sincere  and  humble  Christians,  —  seems  to  me  pref- 
erable to  any  other,  as  it  expresses  the  two  chief  points  of  our 
faith,  —  the  unity  of  God  and  the  divine  mission  of  Christ; 
since  it  is  less  liable  to  the  charge  of  arrogance  than  some  other 
terms  that  have  been  adopted  by  the  advocates  of  this  system, 
and  is  at  tlie  same  time  less  capable  of  perversion ;  and  since 
it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  friends  of  this  faith  hold  to  the 
divine  unity  in  a  more  strict  sense  than  other  classes  of  Chris- 
tians. Names  in  themselves  are  nothing ;  but  as  in  the  inter- 
course of  life  they  are  made  to  be  of  great  importance,  and  as 
in  the  divisions  that  have  rent  the  church  of  Christ  it  is 
almost  necessary  that  we  should  assume  some  distinctive  title, 
I  wish  that  we  might  take  this,  which  those  who  differ  from  us 
are  willing  we  should  have,  and  that  we  should  honor  it  by 
our  lips  and  glorify  it  by  our  lives.  I  rejoice  to  appropriate 
it  to  the  faith  which  I- have  embraced;  for  it  represents  to 
my  mind  the  simple,  genuine  religion  of  the  Son  of  God, — 
the  system  of  doctrines,  precepts,  sanctions,  and  hopes  which 
are  unfolded  in  the  gospel,  the  collection  of  facts  and  truths 


1824-1836.]  MORNING    WORK.  117 

which  fire  embodied  in  the  New  Testament,  what  an  apostle 
called  '  the  glorious  gospel  of  the  blessed  God,'  what  Jesus 
Christ  declared  to  be  'the  true  bread  from  heaven,'  —  Hhe 
words  that  are  spirit  and  life.' " 

1829.  Religious  Controversy.  —  "Among  the  means  of 
ascertaining  Christian  truth,  religious  controversy  must  be 
regarded  as  important,  if  not  essential.  There  is  a  sensitive- 
ness on  this  subject  in  the  minds  of  many  excellent  Christians, 
with  which  I  cannot  sympathize.  They  dread  the  name, 
the  aspect,  the  tone,  of  controversy.  They  are  supremely 
anxious  to  preserve  peace,  candor,  charity.  Their  spirit  is 
a  good  spirit,  the  spirit  of  love ;  but  they  seem  to  me  to 
misunderstand  its  instructions.  Their  argument  is  a  poor 
one:  Because  'love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law,'  therefore 
cultivate  love  at  all  sacrifices.  I  reply,  No,  never  sacrifice 
truth,  nor  betray  its  interests.  Truth  is  the  only  sure  basis 
of  charity.  Do  not,  for  the  sake  of  quiet,  withhold  your  aid 
from  the  suppression  of  error.  It  is  l^etter  that  one  genera- 
tion should  be  involved  in  the  heat  and  smoke  of  religious 
dissensions,  than  that  subsequent  ages  should  be  enveloped  in 
the  darkness  of  a  false  theology.  Let  the  light  in  upon  so- 
ciety ;  and  if  it  startle,  nay,  if  it  provoke  the  passions  and  prej- 
udices of  men,  so  be  it.  For  the  blessed  truth's  sake,  and 
for  man's  sake  who  needs  it,  in  the  name  of  God  who  sent  it, 
let  it  have  free  course.  Let  it  run  and  be  glorified.  The 
evil  will  be  temporary,  the  good  will  be  permanent,  and  the 
present  evil  will  be  exceeded  by  the  present  good.  .  .  .  One 
has  no  more  right  to  lock  up  the  truth  in  his  breast  than 
to  confine  his  charity  there.  Truth  will  always  be  found 
the  best  friend  to  whose  protection  charity  can  trust  itself. 
Strike  from  the  tablets  of  history  the  effects  which  may  be 
traced  to  controversy,  and  you  will  eflTace  many  stains  from 
the  annals  of  mankind,  but  you  will  remove  likewise  the 
marks  and  evidences  of  progress.  It  is  controversy  which 
has  kept  the  wheels  of  improvement  in  motion,  and  has  dis- 
engaged them  when  they  have   become   fixed   among  the 


118  EZBA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1821-1836. 

prejudices  and  creeds  of  the  age.  But  men  need  not  forget 
for  a  moment  the  obligations  under  which  they  lie  to  culti- 
vate peace  and  good-will.  They  may  secure  each  other's 
esteem  by  the  exhibition  of  a  Christian  temper  at  the  times 
when  their  difference  of  opinion  is  most  prominent.  The 
gospel  does  not  desire  a  peace  which  is  the  result  of  silence 
or  apathy,  but  a  peace  which  is  the  fruit  of  self-discipline." 

1826.  Unitarians  should  assert  their  Bights.  —  "My 
dear  Friend,  .  .  .  The  prospects  of  a  Unitarian  society's 
being  gathered  immediately  in  Woodstock  must  be  very 
small,  but  the  effect  of  a  few  Sabbaths'  preaching  may  be 
seen  months  hence.  It  is  desirable  that  the  Liberal  part 
of  the  community  should  show  their  determination  to  assert 
their  rights,  and  should  have  the  opportunity  of  hearing 
such  prayers  and  discourses  as  may  benefit  them.  Every 
day  confirms  my  conviction  of  the  duty  and  the  necessity 
imder  which  Unitarians  are  placed  of  defending  their  claims 
to  Christian  treatment  If  they  choose  to  be  trampled  to 
the  dust,  they  deserve  not  their  privileges.  Oh !  it  makes 
me  indignant,  alike,  when  I  see  Orthodox  men,  frail  and  ac- 
countable as  we  are,  spurn  us  from  the  church  of  Christ,  and 
outrage  truth  and  decency  in  their  efforts  to  crush  the  ener- 
gies of  a  growing  community,  and  when  I  see  Unitarians 
succumbing,  and  trembling  before  the  breath  of  falsehood. 
It  is  a  shame  that  they  who  have  received  God's  most  glori- 
ous gift  in  a  less  perverted  form  than  any  of  their  fellow-men 
should  be  afraid  to  hold  it  forth  to  public  admiration  or 
public  scorn,  —  I  care  not  which,  since  it  is  in  itself  invalua- 
ble,—  or  should  be  indifferent  to  the  means  by  which  others 
may  be  brought  to  feel  its  hallowed  influences.  Yet  there 
are  such  men.  Are  they  not  'ashamed  of  Christ  and  his 
name'?" 

Fast  Day,  1828.  The  Unitarian  Controversy. — "Two 
great  religious  parties  exist  among  us.  Let  us  disguise  or 
soften  it  as  we  may,  this  is  the  fact.  The  last  year  has  dis- 
closed this  fact  more  clearly  than  it  was  seen  before.     Every 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  119 

week  is  rendering  it  more  distinct  and  prominent.  .  .  .  The 
adherents  of  the  old  school  are  unwearied  in  their  efforts  to 
control  popular  sentiment,  to  bring  the  many  into  a  slavish 
submission  to  the  few,  and  to  direct  the  energies  of  public- 
opinion  against  the  new  theology.  Observe  the  tone  of  arro- 
gance, that  would  not  disgrace  the  papal  palace;  and  of  exul- 
tation at  presumed  success,  that  would  not  be  out  of  place  if 
a  victory  had  been  achieved  over  the  enemies  of  God  and 
man.  See  how  jealously  the  received  translation  of  our  Bible 
is  guarded  from  any  imputation  upon  its  purity.  Observe, 
too,  with  what  a  sanctity  the  opinions  of  i.)rmer  times  are 
invested,  and  what  an  outcry  is  raised  against  innovation. 
This  reverence  for  the  past  or  for  existing  abuses  has,  more 
than  any  other  circumstance,  suggested  the  appellation  of 
*old  school.'  The  spirit  of  the  new  school  is  diverse  from 
this.  It  is  a  spirit  of  progress,  of  improvement.  It  respects 
nothing  merely  for  its  antiquity,  and  is  not  afraid  to  lay  aside 
whatever  is  unworthy  of  preservation.  Above  all,  the  cardi- 
nal doctrine  of  the  new  theology  is  that  every  man  should 
read,  think,  and  judge  for  himself. 

The  probable  result  of  the  contest  I  scarcely  dare  to 
anticipate.  I  trust  in  the  Protestant  spirit  which  the  people 
drew  in  with  their  fii-st  breath,  in  the  genius  of  the  American 
character,  which  is  appreciated  by  every  freeman;  and  I  trust 
also  in  the  extremities  to  which  the  opponents  of  free  inquiry 
are  pressing  matters.  More  caution  might  have  effected 
plans  which  an  unwise  zeal  may  defeat.  In  the  ultimate 
success  of  that  which  I  have  denominated  the  new  school  of 
theology,  because,  though  as  old  as  the  time  of  Jesus  Christ 
and  bis  apostles,  it  is  of  recent  growth  in  New  England,  — 
in  the  ultimate  success  of  these  opinions  I  have  the  same 
confidence  that  I  have  in  their  truth.  How  speedily  and  by 
what  instruments  they  will  be  spread  through  the  commu- 
nity, it  requires  a  pro})het's  eye  to  foresee.  If  they  should 
for  a  season  be  overwhelmed,  and  not  only  arrested  in  their 
progress,  but  banished  from  the  land,  it  would  not  surprise 


120  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1S24-1S36. 

me ;  nor  would  it  furnish  any  evidence  against  their  divinity. 
The  signs  of  the  times  do  not  encourage  sanguine  hopes. 
On  the  one  side  are  seen  talent  busy  in  behalf  of  what  it 
deems  the  truth  of  God,  experience  employing  its  trensures 
to  the  same  end,  zeal  that  will  compass  heaven  and  earth  to 
make  one  proselyte,  confidence  that  an  immediate  revelation 
in  its  fivor  could  not  increase,  a  policy  organized  by  the 
most  sagacious  ingenuity,  and  an  expenditure  of  money  that 
promises  soon  to  outstrip  the  profusion  of  the  Catholic  Prop- 
agandists. On  the  other  side  are  found  an  indisposition  to 
active  labors,  an  unwillingness  to  contribute  the  means  of 
diffusing  light,  an  insensibility  to  the  evils  of  comparative 
darkness,  a  dread  of  fanaticism  that  is  equivalent  to  indiffer- 
ence about  the  progress  of  truth,  a  distrust  of  the  justice  or 
w^orth  of  those  tenets  which  are  the  distinctive  marks  of  a 
system,  and  a  dislike  to  concert  that  almost  amounts  to  a 
distaste  for  religions  sympathy.  If  this  be  a  correct  exhibi- 
tion of  the  parties  which  divide  the  community,  we  ought  to 
feel  no  surprise  at  the  diffusion  of  those  opinions  which  are 
most  cordially  embraced  and  most  earnestly  inculcated.  God 
will  not  work  a  miracle  to  perpetuate  or  extend  the  glory 
that  beams  from  the  gospel  of  His  Son.  His  providence 
teaches  us  our  duty:  if  we  will  not  understand  its  precepts,  or 
if,  understanding,  we  will  not  obey  them,  what  are  we  to 
expect  but  that  He  will  suffer  us  to  reap  the  fruits  of  our 
folly  ?  We  shall  go  to  our  graves,  or,  if  conscience  do  not 
speak  here,  we  shall  rise  to  our  judgment,  with  the  convic- 
tion that  we  have  neglected  a  most  holy  office.  Others  will 
do  what  it  is  our  privilege  to  undertake  and  should  be  our 
ambition  to  perform,  the  service  of  enlightening  the  world 
on  the  most  important  subjects  that  can  interest  human 
beings." 

1830.  The  Unitarian  i?e/ie/. —  « By  Unitarian  Chris- 
tianity I  understand,  negatively,  a  faith  that  rejects  every 
form  of  the  Trinity,  and  all  the  peculiar  tenets  of  Calvinism, 
of  whatever  period,  be  it  that  which  was  taught  by  the  semi- 


1824-1833.]  MORNING   WORK.  121 

reformer  in  Geneva,  or  that  wliicli  is  taught  by  those  who 
are  willing  to  bear  his  name  in  America;  be  it  the  Calvinism 
of  New  England  or  New  York,  of  Massachusetts  or  Con- 
necticut, of  one  school  or  another  .  .  .  But  now,  to  present  its 
positive  character,  it  declares  that  there  is  one  God,  supreme 
and  perfect,  of  spotless  holiness,  of  everlasting  justice,  of 
universal  benevolence ;  an  Infinite  Spirit,  who  alone  is  God. 
It  affirms  that  He  exercises  a  moral  government  over  His 
creatuies;  that,  while  He  regards  sin  with  abhorrence,  He  is 
rich  in  mercy ;  that,  according  to  His  mercy,  He  hath  saved 
and  is  saving  men  by  sending  Flis  Son,  Jesus  Christ,  to  be  a 
teacher  of  righteousness,  and  a  mediator  to  reconcile  the  dis- 
obedient to  himself  through  repentance ;  that,  in  the  execu- 
tion of  this  office,  Jesus  Christ,  being  filled  with  the  spirit  of 
God,  proclaimed  certain  truths,  demanded  obedience  to  his 
precepts,  and  enjoined  imitation  of  his  own  example ;  that, 
having  discharged  this  ministry,  he  closed  it  by  giving  his 
life  as  a  sacrifice,  that  he  might  establish  the  truth  and  show 
the  value  of  his  words,  and  make  the  atonement,  or  eflTect  the 
reconciliation  of  sinners  to  God ;  and  that  he  rose  from  the 
dead  to  triumph  over  scepticism  and  wickedness,  through 
this  attestation  to  the  divinity  of  his  instructions.  It  re- 
ceives as  the  only  record  of  these  instructions  the  New 
Testament,  written  by  men  who  were  supernaturally  inspired 
with  the  truth  which  they  communicated.  It  avers  that, 
according  to  the  teaching  of  this  volume,  men  are  placed  in 
this  world  in  a  state  of  moral  discipline ;  that,  if  by  patient 
continuance  in  well-doing  they  seek  after  a  glorious  immor- 
tality, they  will  inherit  eternal  happiness,  but  that  they  who 
are  disobedient  and  impenitent  must  expect  tribulation  and 
anguish  in  a  future  life ;  that  God  sent  his  Son  to  save  men 
by  turning  them  from  their  iniquities  to  piety  and  virtue, 
and  that  in  their  endeavors  to  do  his  will  they  will  receive 
the  aid  of  his  spiritual  influence ;  that  there  is  one  salvation, 
and  but  one  salvation,  for  all  men,  —  salvation  from  sin  by 
the  acquisition  of  a  holy  character ;  and  that,  of  this  charac- 


122  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

ter,  love  to  God  and  love  to  man  are  the  principles,  and 
devotion  and  benevolence,  humility  and  purity,  the  manifes- 
tations. .  .  . 

"  The  Unitarian  Christian  beholds  in  God  his  Father,  the 
Author  of  all  his  powers,  the  Source  of  all  his  blessings,  the 
Giver  of  all  his  hopes,  whose  love  no  words  can  describe, 
and  to  whom  the  least  return  he  can  make  for  unceasing 
tenderness  is  the  entire  devotion  of  his  heart.  He  believes, 
too,  that  God  will  accept  this  devotion,  and  that  he  shall  find 
in  it  a  happiness  to  which  all  earthly  pleasure  is  as  a  drop  to 
the  ocean.  It  is  not  fear  which  drives  him  to  the  throne  of 
the  Most  High,  or  keeps  him  in  trembling  abasement  at  His 
footstool ;  for  he  does  not  believe  that  such  a  prostration  of 
his  nature  is  desired.  He  appears  before  God  as  His  child, 
with  the  confidence  of  filial  sentiment  tempering  the  awe 
inspired  by  divine  majesty  .  .  .  Unitarians  cannot  love  Jesus 
Christ,  it  is  said.  God  forgive  them  who  utter  the  false- 
liood !  Cannot  love  him  ?  What  !  are  not  reverence, 
gratitude,  admiration,  and  sympathy,  occasions  of  love  ? 
Is  it  in  human  hearts  to  be  insensible  to  his  character  and 
services,  as  they  are  described  by  us  ?  Is  it  possible  that 
such  virtues  and  sufierings  and  benefits,  as  are  connected 
with  our  remembrance  of  him,  should  be  estimated  justly, 
and  not  fill  the  soul  with  a  love  almost  passionate  in  its 
ardor?  .  .  . 

"This  is  Unitarian  Christianity,  as  I  understand  it.  A 
faith  whose  topics  are  the  mercy  of  God,  the  love  of  Christ, 
the  duty  and  immortality  of  man;  a  faith  which  beholds  a 
Indder  reaching  from  earth  to  heaven,  as  in  the  patriarch's 
dream,  along  which  the  influences  of  the  divine  compas- 
sion and  the  prayers  of  human  hearts  are  continually  ascend- 
ing and  descending;  a  faith  which  links  time  to  eternity 
by  a  chain  of  moral  causes  and  effects ;  a  faith  which  utters 
its  woe  against  impenitence  with  a  heart-thrilling  pity,  which 
wins  souls  to  Christ  with  a  melting  tenderness;  a  faith  which 
Bimctifies  and  blesses  the  relations  of  daily  life,  which  takes 


1821-1836.]        .  MORNING  WORK.  123 

from  death  its  terror  find  its  power,  and  supports  the  soul 
on  the  arms  of  its  hope,  till  it  is  borne  into  the  society  of  the 
angels." 

1830.  Unitarianism  fitted  to  convert  Sinners.  —  "It  is 
said  that  Unitarian  Christianity,  if  it  be  suited  to  encour- 
age progress  in  excellence,  is  not  adapted  to  the  con- 
version of  sinners;  if  it  make  the  good  better,  it  does  net 
make  the  bad  good.  Unfortunately  for  this  theory,  it  is  con- 
tradicted by  facts.  Examples  enough  there  are  to  put  this 
charge  for  ever  to  silence,  of  men  in  different  stations,  among 
the  rich  and  poor,  who  have  been  brought  by  the  power  of 
this  fiith  to  newness  of  life.  .  .  .  But,  putting  aside  facts, 
what  support  has  it  in  the  nature  of  the  faith  ?  Are  not  the 
truths  which  we  have  seen  to  belong  to  Unitarian  Christian- 
ity as  well  adapted  to  startle  a  slumbering,  as  to  quicken  an 
active,  conscience  ?  A  God  looking  from  heaven  with  parental 
pity,  a  Saviour  expiring  on  the  cross,  a  destiny  reaching 
through  the  illimitable  future,  ability,  duty,  responsibleness, 
retribution,  such  as  they  have  been  described,  —  faintly,  in- 
deed, in  comparison  even  with  the  images  which  exist  in  our 
minds,  yet  such  as  they  have  been  described,  —  are  not  these 
themes  suited  to  awaken  the  careless,  and  to  reclaim  the 
profligate  ?  What  are  there  of  mightier  efficacy  ?  What 
that  will  pierce  the  soul  with  deeper  anguish,  or  move  it  to 
a  more  godly  sorrow  ?  Hell,  do  you  say,  with  its  everlasting 
flames  ?  We  have  a  hell  in  our  picture  of  woe,  —  the  hell 
which  an  impenitent  spirit  creates  for  itself  from  the  ele- 
ments of  its  own  nature,  where  the  flames  of  passion  and 
remorse  feed  on  its  immortal  substance.  Is  there  a  fire  more 
torturing,  a  worm  more  gnawing,  than  this?  The  evil  of 
sin,  do  you  say?  Who  paints  this  evil  in  darker  colors  than 
we?  Do  we  not  declare  it  to  be  a  rebellion  against  the 
Ruler  of  the  universe,  ingratitude  to  the  best  of  Benefactors, 
the  destruction  of  the  soul's  peace  and  hope  ?  Do  we  not 
implore  men,  by  all  the  love  they  bear  themselves,  to  shun 
the  paths  of  disobedience  ?    Do  we  not  mourn  over  a  corrupt 


124  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

mind  as  over  the  most  sad  spectacle  on  earth  ?  Do  we  not 
tell  the  sinner  that  he  is  in  the  most  abject  slavery,  that  he 
is  a  blot  on  the  foir  face  of  the  creation,  that  he  is  treading 
the  path  to  spiritual  deatli  ?  Have  you  stronger  appeals  than 
these  to  make  ?  So  have  we.  We  beseech  him  by  the  mer- 
cies of  God,  we  remind  liim  of  the  goodness  and  long-suffer- 
ing which  are  meant  to  lead  him  to  repentance,  we  call  upon 
the  unextinguished  capacities  of  virtue  of  which  he  is  con- 
scious, we  entreat  him  by  the  compassion  of  his  Heavenly 
Father,  by  the  promise  of  His  forgiveness  and  spirit,  by  the 
blood  and  intercession  of  Jesus,  by  the  joy  of  the  angels  over 
one  sinner  that  repenteth,  by  the  glories  of  heaven,  —  we 
urge  him,  we  adjure  him,  to  become  a  new  creature ;  and 
when  we  leave  him,  we  bear  his  wants  on  our  prayers  to  the 
mercy-seat  of  the  Divine  Presence,  and  make  supplication 
for  him  to  the  God  who  heareth  prayer.  This  we  do,  be- 
cause our  faith  requires  us  to  do  it.  Is  not  this  a  faith  for 
the  conversion  of  sinners?"  .  .  . 

"  This  is  the  faith  which  its  friends  are  called  to  vindicate 
from  the  charge  of  contemplating  Avith  an  unfriendly  eye, 
and  of  helping  with  a  feeble  hand,  the  cause  of  righteousness. 
This  is  the  faith  of  which  it  is  said  that  it  is  a  lax,  specula- 
tive, worldly  religion  !  It  is  sounded  through  the  land,  fi'om 
the  pulpit  and  the  press,  that  Unitarianism  is  an  easy  relig- 
ion, that  says  little  about  sin  and  less  about  holiness,  and 
lulls  its  disciple  in  a  dream  of  carnal  security;  while  from 
first  to  last,  in  its  doctrines  and  its  precepts  and  its  spirit,  it 
enjoins  the  acquisition  of  a  holy  character  as  the  one  thing 
needful." 

1830.  Unitarianism  no  ''Half-way  House  "  to  In  fidelity.  — 
"  Its  tendency  is  said  to  be  towards  scepticism.  It  has  been 
pronounced,  with  a  pert  sarcasm,  the  half-way  house  to  in- 
fidelity. If  this  be  true,  I  am  ready  to  admit  that  our 
oi)inions  cannot  be  very  fruitful  in  holiness ;  for  I  have  little 
confidence  in  a  character  that  is  not  founded  on  faith  in 
divine  revelation.     But  what  reason  is  there  for  thinking  it 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  125 

true  ?  What  presumptive  evidence  is  there  to  sustain  the 
insinuation  ?  Do  we  find  it  in  the  fact  that  some  of  the 
ablest  defences  that  have  been  furnished  of  the  divine  origin 
of  Christianity  have  come  from  Unitarians,  —  defences  that, 
for  depth  of  research  and  cogency  of  argument,  can  hardly 
be  surj^assed  in  any  future  age  ?  Do  we  find  it  in  another 
fact,  that  many  who  have  embraced  our  opinions  in  the  place 
of  deism  have  acknowledged  that,  if  they  had  been  sooner 
made  acquainted  with  them,  they  should  have  escaped  the 
gloom  of  unbelief?  Or  in  yet  another  fact,  that  many  in- 
telligent minds  reject  the  Christian  revelation,  because  they 
cannot  receive  the  contradictions  and  absurdities  which  have 
been  blended  with  it,  and  which  they  suppose  are  essential 
to  it  ?  Or  in  yet  another  fact,  that  almost  all  the  sneers  and 
arguments  of  infidelity  are  levelled  against  what  we  deem 
corruptions  of  the  gospel  ?  In  which  of  these  facts  do  we 
discover  the  needed  proof?  If  in  none  of  them,  shall  we 
look  for  it  in  the  nature  of  the  system,  which,  according  to 
the  definition  which  I  gave  of  its  name,  presents  as  its  two 
cardinal  doctrines  the  being  of  a  God  and  the  divine  lega- 
tion of  Jesus  Christ?  or  in  any  of  those  other  doctrines 
which  I  have  shown  to  belong  to  it  ?  Look,  brethren,  at  the 
doctrines  I  have  laid  before  you.  I  have  not  learned  to 
estimate  the  amount  or  the  value  of  a  man's  faith  by  the 
length  of  his  creed ;  but,  if  there  is  not  enough  in  our  belief 
to  distinguish  us  from  those  who  deny  that  God  has  made  a 
supernatural  revelation  of  his  will,  or  that  Jesus  Christ  was  a 
divine  messenger,  you  may  construct  creeds,  or  covenants, 
or  systems  of  theology,  till  the  words  of  John  should  be 
literally  accomplished,  —  that  'the  world  could  not  contain 
the  bock~;  that  should  be  written,'  —  without  proving  that 
there  is  a  Christian  on  earth.  ...  Is  it  not  apparent,  from 
the  simple  exhibition  of  our  tenets,  that  we  believe  in  that 
Saviour  whose  love  the  apostles  celebrated,  even  God  our 
Father,  and  in  him  who,  under  God,  is  the  Saviour  of  all  who 
come  to  him  ?   It  is  said  that  Unitarians  do  not  reverence  the 


126  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1824-1836. 

Bible ;  and  yet  from  this  book  alone,  and  from  no  human  for- 
mularies, they  draw  their  hope  of  forgiveness  and  their  faith  in 
immortality.  .  .  .  Where  shall  we  meet  with  the  evidence  that 
Unitarian  Christianity  promotes  scepticism  and  infideUty  ? 
This  is  a  question  which  it  is  beyond  my  power  to  answer. 
It  encourages  freedom  of  inquiry,  open  discussion,  fearless 
aA  owal  of  opinion,  and  independence  of  human  authority ; 
but  by  this  encouragement  it  takes  the  surest  method  of 
making  men  firm  believers,  by  leading  them  to  examine  the 
impregnable  foundations  of  the  Christian  faith." 

1833.  Umtarianism  not  a  Negative  System.  —  "A  curi- 
ous and  instructive  volume  might  be  prepared  from  the  writ- 
ings of  Catholic  controversialists  against  Protestants,  and 
the  replies  which  they  have  called  forth,  having  for  its  object 
to  collect  the  evidence  that  almost  every  reproach  w*hich 
Orthodoxy  has  brought  against  Unitarianism  has  been  urged 
against  Protestantism,  and  been  repelled  by  the  same  argu- 
ments with  which  Unitarianism  is  defended.  .  .  .  The  fact 
that  we  deny  some  popular  doctrines  has  given  plausibility 
to  the  remark  that  our  'belief  consists  in  unbelief.*  So  may 
the  Catholic  say  to  the  Protestant  of  any  denomination :  You 
deny  the  infallibility  of  the  Church,  the  authority  of  tradition, 
the  doctrines  of  transubstantiation  and  purgatory,  the  valid- 
ity of  some  of  the  sacraments,  the  value  of  the  religious 
service  which  we  pay  to  the  saints,  and,  above  all,  the  ever- 
lasting perdition  of  them  who  die  out  of  the  pale  of  the  one 
Catholic  Apostolic  Church.  You  Protestants  deny  all  these 
essential  articles  of  a  Christian's  faith.  Yours  is  nothing  but 
a  system  of  negations.  How  does  the  Protestant  reply  ?  By 
showing  that  he  believes  much  that  the  Catholic  takes  .ato 
Ids  creed,  and  rejects  nothing  which  the  New  Testament 
makes  essential  to  a  Christian's  faith.  Look  now  at  this 
same  Protestant  tuniing  round  upon  another,  who,  like  him, 
has  renounced  the  supremacy  of  the  Pope,  and  upbraiding 
him  with  liolding  a  negative  system,  because  he  disbelieves 
the  doctrines  of  the  Trinity,  total  depravity,  vicarious  sacri- 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK,  127 

fice,  immediate  conversion,  and  the  endless  torment  of  them 
who  die  not  in  the  true  faith,  and  persisting  in  the  reproach, 
though  his  brother  show  him  that  he  believes  much  which 
he  takes  into  his  own  creed,  and  rejects  nothing  which  the 
New  Testament  makes  essential  to  a  Christian's  faith! 
What  an  example  of  consistency  does  this  conduct  of  the 
Orthodox  Protestant  present! 

"  The  fact  that  we  consider  many  of  the  articles  of  the 
popular  belief  unscriptural  and  unsound  is  not,  however,  the 
only  circumstance  that  has  induced  the  charge  which  we  are 
examining.  It  has  so  happened,  or  rather  it  has  been  a  nec- 
essary consequence  of  our  situation,  that  we  have  been  much 
occupied  in  proving  the  unsound  and  unscriptural  character 
of  these  prevalent  opinions.  The  difference  between  us  and 
the  majority  of  Christians  consists  indeed  in  our  rejection  of 
dogmas  which  they  esteem  sacred;  that  is,  in  disbelief  on  our 
part.  Such  dissent  we  have  been  compelled  to  justify.  The 
great  truths  of  the  gospel  it  has  not  been  our  immediate 
object  to  defend ;  for  these  truths  other  bodies  of  Christians 
profess  to  hold  in  equal  regard  with  ourselves,  although,  as 
we  contend,  they  mingle  with  them  tenets  which  impair 
their  value  and  often  change  their  character.  The  Trinita- 
rian, for  example,  believes  in  the  infinite  perfection  of  God, 
and  the  Calvinist  in  the  immortality  and  accountableness  of 
man.  It  is  not  therefore  to  establish  these  j)oints  that  we 
have  labored;  but,  taking  them  for  granted,  we  have  endeav- 
ored to  show  that  the  infinite  perfection  of  the  Deity  is  in- 
consistent with  a  tri-personal  existence,  —  and  that  account- 
ableness cannot  be  predicated  of  a  being  who,  by  nature 
wholly  corrupt,  could  be  made  capable  of  holiness  only  by  an 
irresistible  action  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  —  and,  still  farther, 
that  the  doctrines  of  the  Trinity  and  of  total  depravity  and 
supernatural  conversion  have  no  support  in  Scripture.  Now 
I  confess  that  if  one  should  judge  from  some  writings  of 
Unitarians,  regardless  of  the  circumstances  under  which  they 
have  been  placed,  he  might  suppose  that  the  overthrow  of  a 


i 


128  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

flilse  theology  was  the  object  which  they  had  most  at  heart ; 
for  persons  situated  as  they  have  been  could  act  on  the  de- 
fensive only  by  taking  the  position  of  assailants.  We  have 
had  enough  —  too  much,  perhaps  —  of  this  sort  of  warfare. 
I  rejoice  that  a  different  kind  of  writing  is  becoming  more 
common  among  us.  I  would  not  have  Unitarian  Christian- 
ity always  wear  a  belligerent  aspect.  It  is  not  natural  to 
it.  Our  dissent  from  Orthodoxy  has  been  fully  vindicated. 
What  has  been  done  Avill  remain.  Let  the  materials  that 
have  been  collected  be  used.  But  let  us  cease  to  give  our 
principal  attention  to  the  errors  that  j^revail  around  us.  Let 
our  writings  show,  by  the  diligence  with  which  they  unfold 
the  great  truths  of  Christianity,  and  the  earnestness  with 
which  they  press  them  on  the  conscience  and  the  heart,  that 
we  desire  yet  more  to  make  men  feel  the  power  of  the  truths 
which  we  believe,  than  to  disabuse  their  minds  of  the  opin- 
ions which  we  condemn." 

1857.  Charges  brought  against  the  Early  Unitarianism, 
of  New  England  considered.  — "  It  is  affirmed  that  these 
men  were  too  fond  of  controversy,  and  have  earned  an  unen- 
viable reputation  for  theological  pugnacity.  In  point  of  fact, 
as  is  well  known,  the  early  preachers  in  this  country  were 
accused  of  concealing  their  belief  or  unbelief  beneath  a  style 
of  discourse  cautiously  silent  in  regard  to  doctrine.  They 
were  challenged  to  break  this  alleged  silence,  that  their  real 
opinions  might  be  understood.  Such  an  accusation  is  incon- 
sistent with  the  supposition  of  an  eagerness  for  controversy 
or  a  prevalence  of  doctrinal  discussion  in  the  pulpit,  and  sug- 
gests the  thought  that  they  were  forced  into  a  departure 
from  tlie  method  which  they  had  from  choice  pursued.  As 
another  historical  fact,  we  know  that  they  were  drawn  into 
the  field  of  theological  debate  by  statements  boldly  made 
and  diligently  circulated,  which  they  could  not  let  pass 
unheeded  without  a  loss  of  self-respect  and  disloyalty  to  the 
truth  which  they  cherished. 

"  Next  let  us  observe  that  when  they  took  the  unpleasant 


1S24-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  129 

attitude  of  combatants,  and  blows  were  returned  for  blows, 
wliich  had  long  been  borne  in  silence,  they  were  moved  by 
three  considerations  of  the  gravest  character. 

"  First,  they  found  not  only  their  own  faith  in  the  Bible 
denied,  but  the  interpretation  of  this  sacred  volume  grossly 
misconducted.  The  use  of  reason,  not  as  a  superior  teacher, 
but  as  a  divinely  appointed  guide  through  the  teachings  of 
the  Bible,  was  maintained  by  those  who  saw  that  any  other 
position  than  their  own  exposed  its  pages  to  the  cavil  and 
refutation  of  infidelity.  It  should  be  kept  in  mind,  if  we 
would  do  simple  justice  to  the  champions  of  a  liberal  faith 
in  New  England,  forty  years  ago,  that  their  vindications  of 
their  own  belief  were  eminently  Scriptural.  The  service 
which  they  rendered  in  bringing  to  light  the  true  character 
and  proper  use  of  the  Bible  cannot  be  overrated.  By  insist- 
ing on  an  accurate  text,  instead  of  that  of  which  the  errors 
were  undeniable ;  by  showing  that  the  language  of  Scripture, 
like  all  human  language,  is  subject  to  certain  laws  of  in- 
terpretation, a  neglect  of  which  can  only  make  Scripture 
responsible  for  heresies  of  the  greatest  variety  and  enormity; 
and  by  examining  difficult  or  important  passages  by  the  test 
of  these  laws,  —  they  effected  a  revolution  in  the  habits  of  the 
religious  community,  as  much  needed  as  it  was  earnestly 
resisted.  A  blind  reverence  was  displaced  by  an  intelligent 
respect,  and  both  the  meaning  and  the  value  of  the  Bible 
were  presented  in  a  clear  light.  What  has  been  the  conse- 
quence, not  only  among  those  who  openly  adopt  the  views 
which  were  then  pronounced  false  and  unsafe  ?  One  after 
another  of  the  old  errors  has  been  relinquished,  and  the  prin- 
ciples of  Scriptural  interpretation,  which  were  pronounced 
dangerous  when  broached  by  \Yare  and  Norton,  are  now 
taught  in  theological  seminaries,  and  defended  in  periodical 
publications  of  the  great  Protestant  sects  of  the  country. 

"Another  consideration  which  had  weight  with  the  advo- 
cates of  Unitarian  Christianity,  in  the  days  when  it  is  thought 
to  ha^•e  assumed  a  ^particularly  pugilistic  attitude,  was  the 


130  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT.        [1824-1836. 

practical  influence  of  the  popular  conceptions  of  religious 
truth.  Tlie  attacks  which  Channing,  Noah  Worcester, 
Sparks,  and  others  made  on  the  citadel  of  self-styled  Ortho- 
doxy, were  not  directed  against  speculative  tenets,  —  that  is, 
against  theories  which  one  might  hold  without  their  affect- 
ing his  religious  life ;  on  the  contrary,  the  views  of  the 
divine  character,  of  human  nature,  of  the  atonement,  and  of 
Christ's  dignity,  which  prevailed,  interwove  themselves  with 
the  texture  of  a  man's  religious  character.  They  were,  of 
necessity,  either  held  only  as  verbal  propositions,  the  force  of 
wliich  was  not  felt,  —  in  which  case  faith  became  one  form,  and 
a  very  dangerous  form,  of  hypocrisy ;  or  they  w^ere  heartily 
believed,  —  in  w^hich  case,  unless  their  influence  was  neutral- 
ized by  the  sounder  views  with  wiiich  they  might  be  com- 
bined, they  produced  judgments,  feelings,  associations,  and 
conduct  very  unlike  those  which  the  gospel  was  meant  to 
encourage.  It  was  the  moral  influence  of  Calvinism  which 
excited  Dr.  Clianning's  special  abhorrence,  —  a  word  which 
could  not  have  been  used  in  connection  with  his  name,  ex- 
cept in  relation  to  such  an  exciting  cause.  It  was  the  influ- 
ence of  a  belief  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  upon  the 
simplicity  and  enjoyment  of  w^orship,  which  made  its  oppo- 
nents strenuous  in  their  resistance  to  its  propagation.  So 
long  as  theological  error  remains  purely  speculative,  it  does 
no  harm,  and  hardly  needs  exposure.  It  is  as  if  a  man  should 
believe  that  the  sun  actually  moves  round  the  earth,  yet 
pursues  his  agricultural  labors  with  a  constant  recognition  of 
the  effects  of  the  earth's  revolution  round  the  sun.  But 
when  one  entertains  f  dse  ideas  of  his  own  ability  or  respon- 
sibleness,  of  the  nature  of  guilt  or  the  means  of  moral  relief, 
of  the  character  of  the  Supreme  Being  or  of  the  laws  of 
divine  government,  he  is  placed  under  such  great  disadvan- 
tage in  respect  to  a  good  life,  that  it  is  no  more  than  kind- 
ness, and  no  less  than  duty,  to  convince  him,  it  possible, 
of  his  mistake.  It  was  a  perception  and  anticipation  of  the 
evils  which  must  flow  from  accrediting  the  commonly  re- 


1824-1836.]  MORNING  WORK.  131 

ceived  opinions,  that  caused  the  doctrinal  preaching  among 
Unitarians  at  one  period  to  assume  so  much  of  a  controversial 
tone. 

"  A  third  constraining  motive  was  the  denial,  on  the  part 
of  those  from  whose  theological  dogmas  the  Unitarian  con- 
fessors dissented,  of  any  saving  grace  in  the  doctrines  which 
they  drew  from  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  It  was 
necessary  to  defend  and  justify  the  position  which  they  took, 
when  it  was  asserted  on  every  hand  that  these  positions 
involved  a  loss  to  the  soul.  It  was  the  assumption,  and  the 
reiteration  of  the  assumption,  and  the  warning  founded  on 
the  assumption,  that  no  one  could  be  saved  who  rejected 
the  common  theories  of  salvation,  which  dragged  those  writ- 
ers into  a  controversy  as  for  life.  It  was  this  exclusiveness, 
this  injustice,  this  worst  of  all  forms  of  sectarian  arrogance  or 
ecclesiastical  persecution,  that  left  the  Unitarians  of  Massa- 
chusetts no  alternative.  They  were  compelled  by  every 
sentiment  of  propriety  or  duty,  by  a  desire  to  retain  their 
good  name  as  Christians  instead  of  being  classed  with  repro- 
bates and  scoffers,  by  an  appreciation  of  the  truth  which  was 
so  recklessly  vilified,  by  a  regard  for  their  fellow-men  whom 
sticli  language  —  not  of  calm  remonstrance,  or  careful  argu- 
ment, but  of  the  boldest  denunciation  —  was  suited  to  deter 
from  an  examination  of  the  new  tendencies  of  thought,  and 
by  their  gratitude  for  the  light  which  they  had  found,  dis- 
closing to  them  an  interpretation  of  the  gospel  more  worthy 
of  Him  from  whom  it  came,  and  more  fit  to  obtain  the  con- 
fidence of  those  to  whom  it  was  sent,  —  by  these  and  other 
stringent  inducements,  they  were  bound  to  speak  out  in 
behalf  of  their  traduced  faith.  If  sometimes  they  were  be- 
trayed into  a  severity  of  recrimination  that  we  may  regret, 
who  will  not  pardon  their  error,  when  remembering  the 
magnitude  of  their  provocation  ?  .  .  . 

"  A  more  serious  charge  even  than  that  which  we  have 
already  examined  is  brought  against  them.  Their  religion  is 
said  to  have  been  cold,  intellectual,  negative,  —  or,  at  best, 


132  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

moral.  If  we  had  time  at  our  command,  we  might  analyze 
this  accusation,  —  for  such  it  really  is,  —  and  the  result  might 
convince  us  that  its  force  lies  more  in  the  sound  of  the  words 
in  which  it  is  conveyed,  than  in  the  strength  of  the  facta 
which  it  suggests.  Cold  if  they  seem  to  have  been,  a  com- 
parison with  the  enthusiasm  which  has  often  w^rought  such 
miscliief  to  private  character  and  to  social  order  might  in- 
cline us  to  impute  to  them  a  less  dangerous  extreme.  Nega^ 
tive  they  were,  only  in  respect  to  the  errors  which  they 
repudiated.  They  had  a  positive  faith  and  a  substantial 
excellence.  Who  of  us  shall  call  either  in  question  ?  In- 
tellectual were  they,  because  they  brought  their  minds  to 
the  study  of  religion,  and  exemplified  the  benefit,  while  they 
exercised  the  privilege,  of  free  inquiry  ?  Then  let  us  all  bear 
the  same  opprobrium,  for  only  as  men  keep  earnest  and  free 
minds  can  the  service  of  God  be  more  than  an  hereditary 
faith  or  a  mechanical  obedience.  Moral  wxre  they  ?  If  by 
this  epithet  it  be  meant  that  they  ignored  the  ofiices  of  spir- 
itual communion,  or  did  not  allow  the  need  of  the  closet  or  the 
worth  of  the  cross,  w^e  pronounce  the  insinuation  a  slander; 
but  if  it  be  meant  that  they  insisted  on  the  virtues  of  social 
life,  —  integrity,  kindness,  industry,  content,  —  and  the  graces 
which  sweeten  home  and  adorn  society,  then  they  shall  bear 
that  imputation,  for  well  and  nobly  did  they  deserve  it. 

They  were  not  so  spiritual,  however,  we  are  told,  as  are 
their  children:  the  discourses  of  that  day  dwelt  less  on 
themes  of  the  inner  life,  the  prayers  were  less  fervent,  and 
the  religious  sympathies  less  lively  than  now.  If  this  com- 
mendation of  our  ways  over  our  fathers'  be  proper,  it  is  only 
saying  that  under  different  circumstances,  and  with  the 
advantage  of  their  history  to  guide  and  to  warn  us,  we  have 
gone  farther  in  the  right  direction  than  they.  And,  if  on 
such  progress  we  may  congratulate  ourselves,  we  need  not 
doubt  that,  if  they  were  here,  they  would  rejoice  with  us. 

"But,  in  regard  to  the  justice  of  the  allegation,  let  me 
briefly  notice  three  points  of  defence,  which  are  open  to  the 


182i-1836.]  MORNING  WORK.  138 

use  of  every  one  who  honors  their  memory.  There  are 
three  tests  by  which  we  may  try  the  characters  of  men  in 
our  own  or  in  a  former  generation.  First,  by  their  writings ; 
secondly,  by  their  behavior;  and,  thirdly,  by  their  influence. 
Now,  of  the  Unitarian  ministers  and  laymen  of  twenty, 
thirty,  forty  years  ago,  with  whose  writings  we  are  familiar, 
can  it  be  justly  said  that  they  are  deficient  in  a  true  Chris- 
tian spirituality;  that  there  is  no  'life'  in  their  sermons  or 
their  essays;  that  the  'light'  was  clear,  but  cold?  Who 
were  the  preachers  of  that  time?  Buckminster,  Channing, 
Parker,  or,  a  little  later.  Ware,  Palfrey,  Greenwood,  —  were 
they  mere  moral  preachers  ?  It  is  worthy  of  notice  that  the 
Unitarian  literature  includes  a  larger  number  of  printed 
volumes  of  sermons,  in  proportion  to  the  whole  amount  of 
matter,  than  probably  the  religious  literature  of  any  other 
denomination.  And  of  those  volumes,  I  venture  to  say,  an 
impartial  reader  will  pronounce  the  greater  part  to  consist 
of  good,  serious.  Christian  sermons. 

"The  personal  life  of  the  Unitarians  of  this  neighborhood, 
at  the  period  of  which  we  are  speaking,  was  not  marked  by 
asceticism  or  any  affectation  of  piety.  They  were  cheerful 
in  their  temper  and  social  in  their  habits.  But  were  they 
not  good  men  ?  Has  any  one  ever  dared  to  say  they  were 
not,  as  a  body,  virtuous  and  even  exem2)lary?  Were  they 
not,  too,  devout?  Was  not  Priestley,  that  much-abused 
man  since  his  death  as  well  as  before,  —  was  not  he  devout? 
Who  can  read  his  biography,  and  hesitate  as  to  the  answer 
that  should  be  given?  Were  not  those  whom  we  have 
known,  and  others  whose  names  only  we  may  have  heard  as 
household  words,  spiritually  minded  ?  Riper,  richer,  sweeter 
examples  of  the  Christian  character  the  world  has  never 
seen,  than  were  set  before  the  community  in  the  lives  of  some 
of  its  members,  professors  of  the  Christian  faith,  men  and 
women,  during  that  season  of  religious  languor  and  mere 
intellectual  belief,  —  as  it  has  sometimes  been  described,  even 
by  their  own  children. 


134  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

"  Of  the  influence  which  they  exerted,  the  annals  of  this 
city  and  the  memories  of  some  whom  I  address  furnish  suffi- 
cient proof.  The  healthiest  period  in  the  moral  life  of  Bos- 
ton and  its  vicinity  was  during  the  quarter  of  a  century 
between  the  years  1810  and  1835.  Witness  the  benevolent 
institutions  that  were  then  founded,  the  philanthropic  socie- 
ties that  were  organized,  the  places  of  public  worship  that 
were  built,  the  general  quiet  of  the  town,  the  kindly  feelings 
and  the  friendly  intercourse  that  prevailed,  the  refinement  of 
manners  and  the  tone  of  cultivated  and  pure  thought  which 
were  cherished.  And  to  whom  did  our  metropolis  owe 
these  characteristics,  for  which  it  certainly  does  not  deserve 
a  higher  reputation  now  than  then?  To  the  Unitarians,  in 
whose  hands  the  chief  social  influence  resided.  To  them,  I 
say ;  for  I  speak  only  wliat  every  one  acquainted  with  our 
history  knows. 

"I  dismiss,  then,  the  charge  of  want  of  life  in  the  Urii- 
tarianism  of  thirty  years  ago,  as  not  sustained  by  facts. 
Different  phases  of  spiritual  interest,  and  different  forms  of 
religious  activity,  arise  with  the  changing  circumstances  of 
each  generation.  I  do  not  mean  to  claim  for  our  ecclesiasti- 
cal fathers  that  they  had  that  fulness  of  a  divine  life,  after 
which  we  all  should  be  aspiring.  They  had  their  defects, — 
who  has  not?  They  committed  mistakes,  —  who  are  exempt 
from  the  same  liability?  But  they  were  not  only  intelligent 
and  honest  believers,  they  were  true-hearted  and  consistent 
Christians.  They  had  the  '  light  of  life,'  and  it  was  in  them 
both  light  and  life."  ... 

When,  in  1831,  after  six  years'  service,  Mr.  Gannett 
resigned  the  secretaryship  of  the  Unitarian  Association, 
—  still  to  remain  on  its  Board  of  Directors,  —  what  way 
of  using  his  new  leisure  in  the  cause  so  natural  as  the 
way  of  print  ?  Two  or  three  tracts  appeared  ''  by  E.  S. 
Gannett,"  several  sermons  were  given  to  the  "  Liberal 
Preacher"  and  the  *' Unitarian  Advocate,"  one  or  two 


1824-1836.]  MORNING    WORK.  135 

little  volumes  by  Harriet  Martineau  were  reprinted, 
and  he  began  to  publish  a  small  bi-monthly  magazine 
called  the  "  Scriptural  Interpreter."  Unitarianism  was 
a  Bible-faith,  and  his  taste  for  exegesis  has  been  already 
spoken  of.  ''  It  has  long  seemed  to  me,"  he  says,  "  that 
such  a  work  as  I  hope  this  will  be  is  needed.  The 
Bible  is  imperfectly  understood ;  and  its  meaning  must 
often  be  misconstrued  or  remain  obscure,  unless  populai 
instruction  is  furnished  and  is  brought  within  the  reach 
of  common  readers."  From  the  best  expository  books, 
and  with  the  help  of  his  friends,  Furness,  Young. 
Hall,  Dewey,  Dabney,  and  others,  it  was  not  hard  to 
fill  the  forty-eight  pages.  A  large  part,  however,  waa. 
his  own.  For  four  or  five  years  (1831-1835)  the  mag- 
azine was  in  his  hands,  —  and  now  and  then  was  tardy 
in  leaving  them  on  the  due  first-days  of  the  month. 
By  and  by,  as  his  work  deepened  into  lectures,  and  at 
the  same  time  strength  began  to  fail,  three  young  men 
in  the  Divinity  School,  Theodore  Parker,  George  E. 
Ellis,  and  William  Silsbee,  for  a  while  took  charge  of 
it,  and  gave  it  honorable  ending.  It  is  chiefly  notice- 
able for  the  unconscious  prophecies  it  contained  :  each 
number  contained  a  section  that  was  an  early  type  of 
the  Sunday-school  manuals  on  the  one-lesson  system 
that  has  lately  come  in  vogue  ;  and  if  we  would  trace 
the  first  "  evidential  "  discoveries,  among  the  old  fa- 
miliar texts,  that  have  given  Dr.  Furness  fame  as  a 
photographer  of  the  Gospel  incidents,  or  would  watch 
the  first  faint  germs  of  Parker's  pushing  thought,  we 
must  turn  to  the  pages  of  the  little  "  Interpreter." 

When  the  '-'-  Association  "  had  been  some  ten  years  in 
existence,  the  Unitarians  of  Boston,  more  ready  always 
for  benevolent  than  intellectual  alliances,  clasped  hands 
to  form  another  society.     The  stir  of  the  mid-century 


136  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1824-1836. 

was  beginning.  The  town  Avas  fast  swelling  to  the 
large  city,  and  with  the  change  new  social  problems 
rose  to  face  its  people.  Better  provision  must  be  made 
for  the  poorer  classes.  The  various  town-societies  for 
''  Indigent  Boys,"  "  for  Widows,"  &c.,  no  longer  held 
the  want  and  evil  in  control ;  and  heads  and  hearts 
were  already  at  work  devising  new  methods  of  relief. 
Henry  Ware  and  a  few  kindred  spirits  had  long  before 
carried  their  gospel  on  Sunday  evenings  to  room-meet- 
ings in  the  neglected  districts ;  and  since  1826  Dr. 
Tuckerman  with  his  heart  of  Christ  had  ''  been  about 
the  Father's  business,"  as  he  always  called  it,  among 
the  city's  poor.  Two  young  men,  Charles  Barnard  and 
Frederic  Gray,  caught  his  fire,  and  joined  themselves 
with  liim.  The  three  *'ministers-at-large  "  did  so  much 
good,  and  yet  so  little  of  the  good  that  needed  to  be 
done,  that  the  Unitarian  Association,  being  indirectly 
charged  with  their  support,  had  discussed  from  time  to 
time  plans  for  extending  their  work  and  putting  it  on 
an  independent  and  permanent  basis.  In  1832  Mr. 
Gannett  laid  before  the  Association  "  a  sketch  of  his 
plan  in  relation  to  the  Mission  to  the  Poor  in  Boston ;  " 
and  Henry  Ware,  Jr.,  and  he  were  appointed  to  prepare 
a  circuhxr,  with  a  list  of  persons  to  whom  it  should  be 
sent.  Their  report  was  received,  but  action  lingered. 
At  last,  in  the  spring  of  1834,  he  addressed  this  letter 
to  the  Executive  Committee :  — 

Brethren, — .  .  .  We  have  had  before  us  for  months 
a  plan  of  organization  of  our  city  ministry,  but  have  done 
nothing  about  it.  We  received  last  summer  a  communica- 
tion from  a  respected  friend  on  the  propriety  of  entering 
with  more  spirit  upon  philanthro])ic  exertions,  which  we  re- 
ceived with  the  regard  to  which  it  was  entitled.     Still  the 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK,  137 

suggestions  which  it  offered  have  not  been  adopted,  nor  much 
considered  by  us.  Meanwhile  infideUty  has  been  counting 
its  proselytes  and  securing  its  victims  among  the  lower  classes 
in  our  city.  Licentiousness  is  corrupting  and  ruining  many. 
And  we  scarce  give  a  thought  to  their  condition.  Our  Chris- 
tian brethren  of  other  denominations  have  anticipated  us  in 
the  very  movement  which  we  were  last  summer  meditating, 
and  have  just  formed  an  association  which  may  be  exceed- 
ingly useful.  We  cannot  expect  that  our  friends  generally 
will  act  together  with  that  association,  on  account  of  the 
peculiar  religious  tenets  to  the  spread  of  which  it  will  be 
made  subservient.  Yet  what  an  amount  of  talent,  industry, 
benevolent  feeling,  and  wealth,  is  there  among  our  friends, 
which  might  be,  and  ought  to  be,  brought  into  exercise  for 
the  improvement  of  the  ignorant,  the  degraded,  and  sinful ! 
It  seems  to  me  that  we  ouojht  no  lono^er  to  defer  at  least  in- 
cipient  measures  towards  the  accomplishment  of  some  per- 
manent result,  —  the  establishment  of  some  instrumentality 
which  shall  have  within  itself  resources  for  its  own  activity 
and  continuance.  It  is  a  bad  time  to  ask  for  money.  But 
we  do  not  want  money  till  we  have  matured  plans.  ...  I 
would  propose  that  the  subject  of  moral  reform  among  the 
poor  and  vicious  in  the  city  of  Boston  receive  our  immediate 
attention,  .  .  .  and  that  a  committee  be  appointed,  to  whom 
the  following  questions  shall  be  submitted :  — 

1.  Is  it  important  that  the  Ministry-at-large,  which  has 
been  under  the  patronage  of  the  American  Unitarian  Asso- 
ciation, should  be  placed  on  a  permanent  foundation? 

2.  If  yes,  how  can  this  object  be  effected? 

3.  Is  it  important  that  the  ministers  should  be  able  to 
give  their  principal  attention  to  the  moral  state  — the  refor- 
mation and  improvement  —  of  those  whom  they  visit? 

4.  Is  it  expedient  that  a  more  active  sympathy  and  a 
more  effective  co-operation  be  secured  towards  the  rescue  of 
the  lower  classes  of  our  .population  from  irreligion  and  guilt  ? 

5.  Is  it  best  that  a  society  should  be  formed  for  securing 
the  ends  intimated  in  the  preceding  questions  ? 


138  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.  [1824-1836. 

Let  rae  hope  that  you  \^dll  neither  blame  me  for  pressing 
this  subject  on  your  notice,  nor  suffer  these  hints  to  lie  on  the 
table,  to  be  called  up  any  time  or  never. 

Yours  respectfully  and  affectionately, 

E.  S.  Gannett. 
March  27,  1834. 

Now  the  matter  was  vigorously  pressed.  Friends 
met  at  once :  a  committee  was  appointed,  with  the 
letter-writer  for  its  chairman,  "  to  digest  a  plan  for  a 
systematic  organization  for  the  moral  and  religions  im- 
provement of  the  poor  in  this  city  ;  "  and  nine  parishes 
decided  to  form  themselves  into  a  "  Benevolent  Frater- 
nity of  Churches  for  the  Support  of  the  Ministry-at- 
large,"  according  to  the  plan  sketched  in  the  committee's 
report.  "  The  sole  object  was  to  provide  instruction 
and  solace  for  souls,  not  to  add  another  to  the  eleemosy- 
nary institutions  of  the  city."  As  before,  in  the  Ameri- 
can Unitarian  Association,  Mr.  Gannett  accepted  the 
workman's  office  of  Secretary  of  the  Central  Board. 


•It  was  quite  in  character  both  that  the  philanthropic 
work  should  be  thus  practical  and  constructive,  and  that 
it  should  thus  connect  itself  with  his  profession  and  his 
Unitarianism.  This,  of  course,  was  not  the  first  work 
of  the  kind  in  which  the  minister  had  taken  part.  But 
that  kind  left  little  separate  record.  By  signs  here  and 
there  among  his  papers,  we  find  him  in  Deacon  Grant's 
parlor,  discussing  prison-reform  ;  on  his  way  to  Worces- 
ter to  attend  the  General  Temperance  Convention ; 
serving  on  the  School  Committee  ;  writing  arguments 
against  imprisonment  for  debt.  The  two  causes  nearest 
his  heart  were  those  of  Temperance   and  Peace.     He 


1824-1836.]  MORNING    WORK.  139 

thought  that  reason,  religion,  the  wliole  spirit  as  well  as 
the  letter  of  the  gospel,  united  in  forl)idding  war.  Prob- 
ably he  was  "  non-resistant  "  up  to.,  rather  than  m,  the 
absolutely  last  extremity ;  although  he  writes  that  an 
English  book,  which  Dr.  Channing  lent  him  as  the  best 
he  knew  upon  the  subject,  ''  has  made  me  a  thorough 
'peace  man.''''  Often,  in  tlie  sermons,  he  urged  the  prac- 
ticability of  .universal  peace ;  and  his  strong  conviction 
on  this  point  had  much  to  do  with  his  reluctance  in  Anti- 
Slavery  procedure.  On  Thanksgiving  and  Fast  Day, 
when  the  men  in  pulpits  had  an  undisputed  right  to  look 
broadly  off  in  the  direction  of  politics,  Mr.  Gannett  used 
his  chance  from  time  to  time  in  a  way  that  showed  the 
interest  with  which  he  watched  public  measures.  The 
printed  Thanksgiving  sermon  for  1830  was  on  the  im- 
portance of  diffusing  a  just  moral  sentiment,  in  view  of 
the  vital  dangers  then  rising  before  the  country  in  the 
midst  of  its  prosperity.  The  warnings  about  the  office- 
seeker,  and  ''  the  popularity  of  unprincipled  talent,'' 
sound  strangely  familiar  to-day.  For  certain  other 
words  the  time  is  overpast,  but  by  the  fulfilment  of 
their  prophecy,  not  by  the  granting  of  their  prayer:  — 

"  The  greatest  evil  under  which  our  nation  labors  is  the 
existence  of  slavery.  It  is  the  only  vicious  part  in  the  borly- 
politic ;  but  this  is  a  deep  and  disgusting  sore,  weakening  the 
parts  which  it  immediately  affects,  and  sending  inflammation 
through  the  whole  system.  It  must  be  treated  with  the 
utmost  judgment  and  skill.  A  rash  hand  is  on  no  account  to 
be  preferred  to  an  eye  blind  to  its  character.  But  that  it 
must  be  at  no  very  distant  time  a  subject  of  thorough  exam- 
ination, and,  if  possible,  of  cure,  no  man  of  calm  mind,  it 
seems  to  me,  can  doubt.  "We  have  unequivocal  indications 
to  warn  us  how  any  attempt  to  examine  it  will  be  received. 
When  the  hour  comes,  the  influence  of  all  good  citizens  will 


140  EZRA  ,STILES   GANNETT.         [1821-1836. 

be  neerled  to  prevent  scenes  that  would  disgrace  our  annals, 
if  they  should  not  end  our  national  existence.  In  that  crisis 
may  Heaven  save  us  from  ci^^l  discord!  A  most  rare  union 
of  firmness  and  moderation  alone  can  avert  bloodshed.  We 
are  approaching  that  crisis.  The  foul  plague  permitted  by 
our  fithers  to  enter  among  our  institutions  will  not  be  suf- 
fered to  remain  without  an  effort  for  its  removal.  I  tremble 
when  I  think  on  what  a  precipice  we  may  be  standing  !  May 
integrity  and  wisdom  guide  us  along  its  brint!  Is  it  not 
clear  that  our  only  safety  lies  in  a  moral  sentiment  which 
shall  restrain  the  passions  and  teach  men  to  judge  impartially 
and  act  uprightly  ?  Without  this  protector,  what  is  to  pre- 
vent bitterness,  strife,  and  hostility  ?  " 

The  Anti-Slavery  movement  was  just  beginning  then, 
beginning  with  a  very  few  men,  —  "  fanatics."  So  Mr. 
Gannett  also  judged  them.  He  was  alive  to  the  outrage 
at  the  South.  With  the  Colonization  Society  he  had 
been  connected  from  its  formation  ;  not  believing  that 
its  influence  in  diminishing  slavery  here  would  be  great, 
but  that  it  might  be  made  the  instrument  of  destroying 
the  slave-trade  in  Africa,  and  possibly  of  beginning  the 
regeneration  of  that  continent.  But,  with  his  views  and 
temperament,  he  could  never  join  the  Anti-Slavery  So- 
ciety. The  violence  of  the  Abolitionists  ofPended  both 
his  sense  of  justice  and  his  sense  of  practicality.  To 
press  first  principles  by  open  attack,  he  said  "  would 
snap  the  bonds  of  union,  and  then  what  could  we  do  ? 
Nothing  next  year,  and  perhaps  nothing  for  a  century.'* 
Proceed,  but  proceed  slowly  by  moderate  and  gradual 
measures,  with  forbearance  towards  the  master  as  well 
as  sympathy  for  the  slave,  —  and  he  "  doubted  not 
that  every  year  would  see  a  decrease  of  the  evil  and 
a  multiplication  of  the  facilities  for  the  deliverance  of 
the  South  from  this  burthen  and  the  countrj'  from  its 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK,  141 

disgrace."     But  to  this  subject  we  arc  to  return  in  a 
later  chapter. 


We  have  been  watching  one  who  was  by  nature  an 
organizer,  not  a  seeker,  of  material;  and  the  labors 
for  parish  and  denomination,  so  abundantly  performed, 
strengthened  each  year  the  disposition.  Not  much  time 
had  he  for  study  or  the  quiet  meditation  which  keeps 
the  roots  of  great  ideas  in  growth.  One  who  lived  in 
the  home  with  him  recalls  the  whirl  and  hurry  of  the 
week ;  the  people  coming  and  going ;  the  many  meet- 
ings ;  the  tea-pot  and  the  long-lit  lamp  at  night.  The 
sermons  used  to  gather  and  shape  themselves  in  the 
streets,  as  the  then  quick  feet  pressed  on  from  house  to 
house.  In  between  the  calls  there  would  be  an  appoint- 
ment with  some  committee,  and  in  the  late  evening  a 
Bible  lesson  to  prepare  for  the  next  day's  class,  and  in 
the  morning  proofs  to  read  while  the  boy  waited  in  the 
entry.  So  Friday,  even  Saturday,  passed.  Saturday 
night  arrived,  when  at  last  the  sermon  came  forth, 
beginning  with  a  struggle  probably,  —  by  and  by,  in  the 
small  hours,  flashing  over  the  pages.  Then  the  Sun- 
day's strain,  with  its  two  services,  brought  him  again  in 
face  of  another  similar  week. 

From  the  outside  all  seemed  bright  enough  in  the 
busy  life.  Parish  success  as  pastor  and  as  preacher,  pleas- 
ant relations  with  Dr.  Channing,  unusual  repute  in  the 
denomination  as  a  stirring  young  champion  of  the  faith, 
—  this  was  his.  His  homes,  too,  were  real  homes :  much 
of  the  time  he  lived  in  the  "  parsonage  "  with  one  of  his 
most  motherly  parishioners.  Choice  intimacies  were 
growing  up  among  his  welcomers  and  listeners  ;  and  the 
ministers,  as   we  have  seen,  were  real  "  brethren  '*  in 


142  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

those  days.  The  old  college  friendships  with  the  four 
or  five  Avere,  meanwhile,  kept  very  warm.  "  Who  was 
ever  richer  in  friends  than  I  ?  "  he  says  to  Kent.  "  I 
have  seen  three  classmates  marry,  and,  instead  of  losing 
their  affection,  have  obtained  three  sisters.  If  I  were 
one  hundredth  part  as  good  as  I  ought  to  be,  when  our 
Fatlier  in  heaven  has  bestowed  so  many  blessings  on  me, 
how  good  and  happy  I  should  be !  "  The  salary  was 
ample.  Before  many  years  the  fifteen  hundred  dollars 
were  increased,  after  one  or  two  refusals  on  his  part, 
to  two  thousand.  Ample,  at  least,  such  allowance 
would  have  been,  had  there  been  none  but  himself  to 
care  for ;  but,  as  affairs  were,  the  money  fled  too  rap- 
idly. He  had  to  borrow  more,  and  even  sell  some 
books. 

But  "  IMorning  Work,  Without  and  Within,''  the 
chapter  is  called.  In  spite  of  all  this  outside  bright- 
ness, when  we  look  in,  behind  the  works,  upon  the  work- 
man's inward  life,  the  contrast  startles.  Of  course,  as  in 
college,  happy  hours  were  many,  and  happy  days  lasted 
on  into  happy  weeks,  when  the  letters  show  him  laugh- 
ing over  his  business.  ''  Sometimes,"  says  a  friend,  "  he 
would  come  in  gleeful  like  a  child,  with  merr}^  eyes  ;  but 
often  he  was  overshadowed,  and  he  seemed  like  a  man 
overworking  all  the  time."  Overworking  and  wrongly 
working  he  was.  Few  men  live  out  a  more  minute 
conscientiousness  in  duty  due  to  others  ;  few  good  men 
have  had  less  conscientiousness  in  duty  due  themselves. 
There  was  much  of  the  old  ascetic  in  him,  — the  ascetic's 
self-devotion  as  well  as  his  thriftless  ignorance  and  dis- 
regard of  Nature's  laws  of  flesh.  In  a  word,  the  old  de- 
pression, his  by  birth,  preyed  on  him  more  deeply  year 
by  year,  as  the  incessant,  reckless  strain  went  on.  There 
were  certain  secret  struggles  also,  of  which  no  story  can 


1821-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  143 

be  told,  besides  the  ever- wearing  comparison  of  himself 
with  the  man  at  whose  side  he  stood  before  the  public, 
—  all  this  to  increase  the  gloom.  Self-distrust  darkened 
every  prospect.  Not  distrust  of  God's  goodness,  nor  of 
friends'  sincerity,  but  of  his  own  use  and  goodness.  He 
longed  for  others'  good  opinion,  and  constantly  fell  short 
of  his  own.  He  had  no  ability,  no  fitness  for  the  min- 
istry ;  Avas  both  fool  and  hypocrite ;  people  saw  it,  and 
were  treating  him  accordingly,  —  such  was  too  often  the 
vision  of  himself!  Little  slights  among  his  families 
were  thus  justified  to  them,  while  their  kindness  was 
"pity,"  and  Dr.  Channing's  was  "forbearance."  The 
mood  made  him  very  sensitive  and  exacting  with  those 
few  friends  who  knew  his  feelings  best ;  and  their  words 
rebuking,  cheering,  jesting,  reasoning  with  him,  are  sad 
to  read.  Underneath  the  weakness  lay  all  that  deep  un- 
selfishness, that  active  loyalty  to  justice  and  to  duty,  for 
which  friends  clung  to  him,  and  from  which  he  habitu- 
ally worked.  Out  from  the  depths  he  would  go  forth, 
meet  men,  and  labor  in  his  calling,  and  labored  best 
under  pressures  of  emergency  by  those  late  night-efforts 
and  sharp  concentrations  of  the  mind  ;  then,  as  the  spent 
nerves  rested,  the  sense  of  failure  came  again. 

So  the  young  minister's  life  was  really  a  kind  of 
tragedy,  —  in  part,  but  only  in  part,  his  fault.  This 
book,  we  say  again,  would  be  no  true  "  life,"  if  it  lacked 
full  reference  to  the  contrast  between  the  "  without  " 
and  this  "  within."  It  makes  the  life  a  warning^.  It 
makes  it  also  an  encouragement.  The  best  and  strong- 
est things  in  him  are  appreciated  only  when  these  are 
known.  That  busy,  self-forgetting  energy  shows  out 
the  more  strikingly  against  the  dark  background  of 
self-remembering  despondency. 

The  final  break-dowu  was  sure  to  come.     His  very 


144  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

first  year  in  Federal  Street  prophesied  it.  A  few  sen- 
tences of  Lis  own,  and  some  friendly  answers  from  wise 
helpers,  shall  hint  the  story.  He  had  just  been  telHng 
]\Ir.  Kent  that  he  wrote  "  six  things  —  for  the  honor 
of  the  ministry  don't  call  them  sermons  —  in  three 
weeks,"  and  continues :  — 

Nov.  9,  1824.  "You  are  right  in  speaking  of  my  situa- 
tion as  very  difficult  to  me,  but  it  would  not  be  to  a  man  of 
decent  ability  and  industry  a  more  laborious  place  than 
many  others,  because  the  feeling  of  responsibleness  for  the 
improvement  of  the  society  is  thrown  in  good  measure  upon 
another ;  for  it  seems  to  me  I  can  do  little  good  or  hurt. 
But  I  know  so  little  of  books,  of  men,  or  of  religion,  and  am 
so  abominably  and  almost  insuperably  lazy,  that  I  encounter 
mortification  and  toil  every  step  of  my  way.  It's  hard 
work  to  be  good,  and  it's  monstrously  hard  to  be  a  good 
minister." 

One  Saturday  in  the  next  spring  he  writes  again  to 
him:  — 

"  I  am  very  well  in  body,  but  am  ready  to  scream.  Who 
is  sufficient  for  these  things?  I  am  sufficient  in  no  way. 
What  shall  I  do  ?  When  I  have  neither  talents  nor  virtues 
proper  for  such  a  place,  ought  I  not  to  quit  it  directly  ?  I 
would  be  a  day-laborer,  (that  I  am  now,)  I  would  be  a  brick- 
maker,  to  secure  peace  of  mind  and  consciousness  of  virtue. 
I  would  give  or  do  any  thing,  if  I  could  only  cherish  that 
spirit  of  devotion  without  which  a  minister  sins  every  time 
he  is  forced  to  pray ;  and  this  I  do  day  after  day,  and  it  is 
registered  against  me.  Ought  I  not  to  be  miserable  ?  Can 
I  help  inquiring  what  shall  I  do  ?  " 

A  true  Saturday  afternoon  letter,  when  "  the  sermon 
is  not  half  done."     Kent  makes  answer ;  — 

"  Are  you  a  settled,  incorrigible,  thorough  Hopkinsian,  — 
totally  depraved  ?    Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  have 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  145 

no  reverence  for  God  and  religion,  and  are  making  only  a 
show  of  worship  in  the  church  ?  Is  it  true,  Gannett,  that 
you  have  no  talents  ?  How,  then,  —  I  am  going  to  be  plain, 
for  you  are  uselessly  tormenting  yourself,  —  how,  then,  were 
the  Government  of  College  such  fools  as  to  rank  you  first  of 
fifty-four,  whoui  I  know  to  have  studied  not  more  than  four 
hours  in  a  day  while  there  ?  You  received  an  almost,  if  not 
quite,  unanimous  call  from  Dr.  Channing's  society,  although 
you  differed  from  them  on  a  question  which  they  considered 
of  great  importance.  You  were  invited  by  Professor  Norton  to 
unite  with  him  and  others  in  what  he  intended  should  be  an 
important  work.  You  preached  at  Philadelphia,  Baltimore, 
and  Washington  :  at  the  first  place  I  was  told  by  Mr.  Ware 
that  you  chained  the  attention  of  the  whole  audience,  and  in 
the  second  by  Mr.  Appleton,  '  How  happy  should  we  be, 
could  we  always  hear  such  preaching  ! '  It  is  not  true  that 
you  have  no  qualifications  for  the  ministry,  or  I  have  lived 
months  and  years  with  a  person  more  artful  than  any  other 
human  being.  You  ingeniously  magnify  every  little  defect 
of  your  own  character,  and  are  merciless  in  self-condemna- 
tion. You  are  unhappy  because  you  have  imagined  a  per- 
fection to  which  few,  if  any,  can  attain.  .  .  . 

"  '  A  bricklayer '  ?  Do  you  imagine  that  this  would  make 
you  virtuous  ?  Suppose  we  should  set  up  a  pair  of  trucks, 
and  with  our  whips  and  frocks  drive  through  the  streets  of 
Boston,  or  Alexandria  in  Egypt  if  you  please,  what  do  you 
suppose  our  conversation  would  relate  to  at  the  close  of  the 
day  ?  .  .  .  O  Gannett,  what  a  pang  of  misery  would  every 
stroke  of  a  bell  carry  to  our  souls,  if  we  relinquished  the  must 
holy  cause  and  the  service  of  a  most  benevolent  Master,  tor 
no  other  reason  than  because  we  were  wicked !  Be  satisfied 
with  doing  as  much  good  as  the  most  active  who  are  toiUng 
with  you.  You  may  still  plead  your  sinfulness,  I  will  no 
more  believe  you  than  I  did  my  good  deacon,  who  said  he 
was  more  wicked  and  abominable  in  the  sight  of  God  than 
the  greatest  sinner  living,  than  the  liar,  thief,  or  murderer ! 

10 


14G  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

I  know  you  will  not  be  angry  with  me  for  plainness.  You 
will  not  accuse  me  of  abusing  that  confidence,  by  imperti- 
nence, for  which  I  feel  very  grateful. 

"  Your  sincere  friend, 

"B.Kent." 

That  was  before  one  year  of  work  was  over*  Four 
months  later,  only  fourteen  from  ordination,  he  WTote 
his  first  letter  of  resignation.  It  was  not  sent  to  the 
parish,  but  something  like  it  was  sent,  and  more  than 
once  sent,  to  Dr.  Channing  ;  and  other  letters  still  linger 
in  the  files  whence,  perhaps,  some  brighter  mood,  some 
parishioner's  kind  greeting,  or  some  clench  of  resolve, 
kept  them  from  ever  escaping.  Amid  all  his  success 
and  the  people's  increasing  love,  he  must  have  known 
days  of  almost  despair.  Twice,  at  least,  Dr.  Channing 
sent  words  of  help,  that  may  help  others  besides  him :  — 

"  May  20,  1825. 
"My  dear  Sir, — I  was  truly  grieved  to  receive  your  letter 
from  Portland,  and  yet  I  am  glad  you  wrote  it.  Not  a  susj)!- 
cion  of  the  feelings  you  express  had  ever  crossed  my  mind ; 
and,  believing  that  you  had  grounds  for  encouragement,  I  took 
it  for  granted  that  you  were  encouraged.  But  it  seems  I 
erred ;  and  it  is  well  that  I  am  undeceived,  for  I  hope  to  be 
useful  to  you.  I  know  by  experience  more  of  your  state  of 
mind  than  you  imagine.  In  truth,  many,  if  not  most,  minis- 
ters pass  through  the  trial  of  misgivings  and  fear ;  and,  were 
these  yielded  to,  our  profession  would  lose  its  most  conscien- 
tious and  useful  members.  In  the  present  case,  these  fears 
have  no  foundation;  and  I  entreat  you  to  cast  them  out, 
or  at  least  to  resist  them.  Depression  is  the  palsy  of  the 
mind,  of  the  moral  as  well  as  intellectual  nature ;  and,  in  a 
world  overrun  with  obstacles  and  difficulties,  we  must  gird 
ourselves  with  courage,  if  we  hope  to  make  progress  or  do 
much  good.  .  .  .  Brace  your  spirit  by  all  the  means  of  reason 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  147 

r.iirl  religion.  Take  care  of  your  health,  for  despondence  is 
half  the  time  a  bodily  disease.  I  know  not  where  you  can 
look  for  a  more  promising  field  of  labor  than  where  you  are. 
You  would  injure  yourself  and  the  church  by  any  step  which 
would  weaken  your  connection  with  it.  I  beg  you  not  to 
express  your  feelings  except  to  me ;  for  they  are  exaggerated 
and  misrepresented,  when  communicated  freely  or  even  to  a 
feio  friends.  For  myself,  I  should  be  exceedingly  grieved  by 
your  persevering  in  your  present  views.  I  have  felt  entire 
satisfaction  in  our  connection,  and  should  esteem  a  dissolu- 
tion of  it"  a  personal  calamity.  As  to  the  future,  I  can  give 
you  no  promise.  I  promise  myself  nothing.  Such  are  the 
fluctuations  of  opinion,  that  a  minister  should  prepare  himself 
for  the  worst.  He  must  do  his  best,  and  leave  the  future, 
which  he  may  not  live  to  see,  to  the  All-wise  Disposer.  True 
submission  has  as  much  of  resolution  as  of  patience,  and 
armed  with  this  spirit  you  have  nothing  to  fear.  .  .  . 
"  Very  affectional^ely  your  friend, 

"W.  E.  C." 

"  Rhode  Island,  August  12,  1829. 

"My  dear  Sir, — You  were  right  in  thinking  that  you 
should  grieve  me,  and  yet  I  am  truly  grateful  to  you  for 
writing.  I  shall  rejoice  if  I  can  aid  you  in  your  struggle,  —  a 
struggle  to  which  no  minister,  I  suppose,  is  wholly  a  stranger, 
though  some  suffer  under  it  peculiarly.  It  is  difficult  for  one  to 
understand  fully  another's  mind ;  and  I  well  know  that  we  may 
do  injury  by  striving  to  allay  in  a  friend  apprehensions  which 
we  ought  rather  to  strengthen,  by  ascribing  to  innocent  in- 
firmity what  ought  to  be  reproved  as  crime.  I  have,  how- 
ever, a  very  strong  conviction  —  and  I  am  bound  to  express 
it  —  that  you  suffer  now  from  a  morbid  state  of  mind.  That 
you  have  cause  for  humiliation,  I  doubt  not ;  but  I  have 
nearly  as  undoubting  a  belief  that,  could  you  shake  off  most 
of  your  apprehensions  and  anxieties,  you  would  be  a  better 
Christian;  that  they  are  trials  to  be  overcome,  not  intima- 


148  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.  [1824-1836. 

tions  to  be  obeyed.  I  found  my  belief  at  once  on  what  I 
know  of  you  and  what  I  know  of  human  nature.  Human 
nature  is  ever  more  prone  to  groundless  solicitude  than  to 
groundless  hope.  This  is  a  general  principle,  which  we  are 
to  apply  in  the  treatment  of  others,  and,  what  is  much  more 
difficult,  in  managing  our  own  minds.  The  fact  that  others 
abandon  themselves  without  cause  to  desponding  views  of 
themselves,  that  spiritual  gloom  enters  largely  into  the  ex- 
perience of  excellent  individuals,  is  so  often  witnessed,  that 
we  may  properly  suspect  the  influence  of  the  same  principle 
in  ourselves.  The  cause  we  may  not  be  able  to  explain.  It 
seems  to  reside  in  our  physical  system;  for  every  man  ob- 
servant of  himself — especially  a  dyspeptic  — is  conscious, 
under  certain  states  of  the  body,  of  a  tendency  to  utter 
despair,  and  of  entire  distrust  of  his  own  powers.  May  I  say 
to  you  that  a  person,  accustomed  to  read  the  signs  of  the 
physical  and  mental  temperament,  could  hardly  see  you, 
without  suspecting  some  tendency  to  excessive  sensitive- 
ness ?  In  one  particular  I  have  seen  this  infirmity.  You  have 
iraaf^ined  yourself  undervalued  by  those  who  have  high  im- 
pressions of  your  powers.  Your  letter  shows  what,  I  confess, 
I  thought  to  be  subdued,  —  a  distrust  of  my  sentiments 
towards  you.  Ever  since  your  settlement,  I  have  had  a 
growing  conviction  of  your  fitness  for  your  work,  I  have 
been  struck  with  the  activity  and  resources  of  your  mind,  I 
have  felt  more  and  more  as  if  you  were  becoming  more  than 
I  have  been  to  my  people,  and  as  if  my  removal  from  them 
would  hardly  be  a  calamity ;  yet,  in  the  midst  of  these  cheer- 
ing anticipations,  I  learn  that  you  consider  me  as  needing 
much  patience  to  endure  my  relation  to  you.  My  respect 
for  your  character,  my  belief  that  you  were  working  out  for 
yourself  a  better  course  than  I  could  prescribe,  my  unwilling- 
ness to  interfere  with  or  shackle  an  independent  mind,  and, 
let  me  add,  much  self-distrust,  have  led  me  to  be  sparing  of 
counsel ;  and  now  I  apprehend  that  the  conduct  which  has 
been  prompted  by  sentiments  of  peculiar  regard  has  been 


1824-1836.]  MORNING    WORK,  149 

wholly  misinterpreted.    But  I  will  write  no  more.  .  .  .  Wliy 
will  you  not  get  a  supj^ly,  and  come  here  next  Sunday  and 
preach  to  my  flock  in  Portsmouth  ?    I  should  be  glad  of  rest. 
"  Believe  me,  most  truly, 

"  Your  sincere  and  afiectionate  friend, 

"  W.  E.   CHANiaNG." 

If  this  voiino^  minister  had  an  ideal  before  him  as 
a  working-model,  it  was  that  same  consecrated  Henry 
Ware  who  had  called  him  "  my  strong-hearted  coadju- 
tor." He  was  older  than  himself  by  onl}^  seven  years  ; 
and  in  spirit  and  purpose  and  ways  of  work  the  two 
were  so  much  alike,  that  the  thought  of  one  called  up 
the  thought  of  the  other  to  their  friends.  The  sickness 
long  due  had  at  last  fallen  on  Henry  Ware  ;  and  he  sent 
testimony,  in  hopes  of  saving  his  younger  brother  :  — 

1828.  "The  long  letter  which  I  proposed  writing  was 
chiefly  to  be  a  lecture  on  health,  with  personal  application  to 
the  younger  bishop  of  Federal  Street.  But  I  will  give  you 
two  sentences,  instead  of  an  epistle.  I  have  long  been  con- 
cerned at  your  mode  of  life,  which  appears  to  be  a  careless, 
reckless  throwing  away  of  a  chance  for  longevity.  And,  since 
1  have  been  suddenly  cut  off"  in  the  midst  of  a  similar  career, 
I  have  thought  of  you  much,  and  been  anxious,  like  Dives, 
to  send  you  a  message,  lest  you  also  come  into  this  place  of 
torment.  I  refer  not  to  work,  but  to  imprudence ;  for  it  is 
nonsense  to  suppose  that  either  of  us  work  too  much,  what- 
ever friends  may  say.  Other  men  there  have  been  who  do 
more.  But  we  work  imprudently,  and,  I  think,  very  much 
alike.  "Want  of  method,  late  and  irregular  hours,  neglect  of 
regular  exercise  of  body  to  balance  every  day  the  fatigue  of 
the  mind,  and  sometimes  violent  exercise,  as  if  to  do  up  the 
thing  by  the  job,  —  no  constitutions  can  stand  such  a  life.  .  .  . 
For  me,  it  is  too  late :  for  you,  it  is  not.  And  I  am  deeply 
anxious  that  you  should  do  prudently  from  my  experience,  and 


150  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

not  wait  for  3'our  own.  It  is  not  health  only,  it  is  the  power 
of  nsefiilness,  and  the  sin  wliich  weighs  upon  the  mind  and 
depresses  it,  and  takes  away  the  consolations  of  a  sick-bed ; 
embittering  the  heart  with  the  thought  that  we  are  suffer- 
ing the  just  punishment  of  our  folly  and  neglect  of  duty. 
And  there  is  no  little  sting  added  to  the  mortification,  if, 
meantime,  friends  are  attributing  the  evil  to  undue  earnest- 
ness in  duty.  ...  I  beg  you  to  think  on  this  subject,  and 
act.  You  are  endowed  with  powers  of  doing  good  which 
not  many  possess,  and  which  you  ought  not  to  trifle  with. 
In  these  days  they  are  needed." 

Six  years  later,  Mr.  Gannett,  who  had  actually  ven- 
tured to  remonstrate  with  his  friend  against  what  seemed 
like  new  imprudence,  got  this  word  back :  — 

"...  Let  me  ask  you  to  reflect  whether  the  bectm,  as  big 
and  as  violently  worked  as  a  battering-ram,  ought  not  to  be 
plucked  out  of  your  eye,  now  that  you  have  got  the  mote 
out  of  mine.  There  is  no  doubt  that  you  are  fast  over- 
throwing yourself,  and  are  soon  to  be  numbered  among  the 
crippled.  It  ought  not  to  be  so.  The  company  of  invalid 
pensioners  is  large  enough ;  and  the  Church  cannot  afibrd  to 
have  you  taken  from  its  active  service  and  thrown  into  its  hos- 
])ital.  I  know  that  you  will  think  and  act  for  yourself;  but  if 
tlie  four  last  years  of  my  bitter,  bitter  experience  could  but 
warn  and  move  you,  and  save  you  from  premature  decrepi- 
tude, I  should  have  one  more  reason  to  bless  God  for  having 
allowed  me  to  do  some  good. 

"  Yours  in  all  truth  and  love, 

"  H.  Ware,  Jr." 

The  warnings  were  little  heeded:  only  his  own  ex- 
perience, if  any,  was  to  serve  him.  Deeper  and  deeper 
in  work  each  year,  how  could  he  change,  amid  the 
pressures,  habits  that  were  even  older  than  himself? 

But  there  came  a  season's  beautiful  uplifting.    In  the 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  151 

spring  of  1835  friends  noticed  that  his  face  was  brighter. 
There  fell  "  a  day  that  to  me  was  the  beginning  of  a 
new  life."  He  now  was  nearly  thirty-five  years  old. 
Anna  Tilden  was  twenty-five,  —  a  shy,  gentle  woman, 
having  hidden  strengths  of  thought  and  character,  a 
conscientiousness  as  certain  as  his  own,  and  deep  re- 
ligious feeling.  She  was  one  of  the  family  with  whom 
he  had  long  found  a  home  ;  and  a  struggle  with  religious 
doubts,  in  which  he  had  been  her  only  confidant,  had 
brought  their  two  minds  close  together.  During  a  jour- 
ney to  Niagara  and  Lake  George,  the  summer  previous, 
her  secret  dawned  on  her.  His  secret  broke  on  him, 
like  a  revelation,  amid  the  winter-work.  On  the  last 
day  of  the  winter  they  owned  it  to  each  other.  The 
next  October  saw  Dr.  Channing  coming  up  from  New- 
port on  purpose  for  the  wedding,  and  the  parish  fur- 
nishing a  home  with  comforts  for  them.  Now  all 
outward  things  seemed  bright  indeed  ;  and  how  bright 
the  Avorld  could  look  to  him  in  happy  moments,  a  letter 
written  to  a  dear  friend  on  the  Niagara  journey  shall 
show :  — 

"  Sunrise,  on  Lake  George,  opposite  Diamond  Island, 
half-past  five  o'clock,  Friday,  Aug.  22,  1834. 

"  My  dear  Mes.  Tokrey,  —  It  is  one  of  the  most  splendid 
mornings  that  ever  shone  on  the  eyes  of  mortals.  We  are 
seated  on  deck,  enjoying  the  glorious  light,  the  cool  breeze, 
and  the  beautiful  scenery.  The  sun  has  just  gained  the 
ascent  of  the  hills.  The  vapor  which  clung  to  their  feet  has 
received  the  radiance  that  is  poured  over  their  summits,  and, 
after  reflecting  it  ^n  various  hues,  has  slowly  melted  away,  as 
if,  when  its  adoration  of  the  glorious  orb  was  paid  by  silent 
sympathy,  its  work  was  done,  and  its  existence  might  be 
closed.  How  natural  was  the  idolatry  of  the  sun !  I  won- 
der not  that  men,  in  their  bUndness, —  nay,  was  it  not  rather 


152  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

the  unconscious  spirituality  of  their  souls  ?  —  worshipped  that 
object  which  rises  in  splendor  to  enlighten  and  bless  the 
earth.  And  yet  the  sunset  is  to  me,  and  always  has  been, 
far  more  beautiful.  It  speaks  to  my  heart :  sunrise  only  de- 
mands my  admiration.  Anna,  to  whom  I  was  just  making 
this  remark,  gave  a  most  poetical  as  well  as  kind  solution. 
The  sunrise,  said  she,  has  too  much  of  promise  to  be  touching 
to  you.  There  was  more  of  rebuke  than  of  compliment,  I 
fear,  in  her  words,  despite  her  love. 

"...  By  our  long  visit  at  Niagara  Falls  T  was  enabled  to 
bring  away  a  distinct  impression  of  their  meaning^  and  a  clear 
picture  of  their  appearance.  To  me  they  spoke  of  beauty, 
and  of  beauty  only.  I  could  not  obtain  the  feeling  of  sub- 
limity, and  to  connect  ideas  of  terror  and  passion  with  the 
scene  appears  to  me  almost  like  sacrilege.  There  is  beauty 
in  the  rapids  as  they  hasten  along  as  if  rejoicing  to  plunge 
into  the  abyss,  in  the  deep  white  of  the  foam,  in  the  in- 
numerable crystals,  sparkling  and  joyous,  which  crown  the 
fill  and  cover  the  upper  half  of  its  descent ;  and  beauty,  sur- 
passing beauty,  in  the  light  vapor  that  plays  over  the  bed  of 
the  chasm,  and  seems  like  ethereal  loveliness  softening  the 
majesty  of  the  spot.  And  there  is  beauty  in  the  slow  and 
tranquil  passage  of  the  waters  over  the  centre  of  the  Horse- 
shoe Fall,  where  the  observer  beholds  that  almost  solid,  yet 
living  and,  as  it  were,  conscious  green,  to  which  as  there  is 
no  resemblance  in  nature,  so  are  there  no  terms  in  language 
to  represent.  Strange  as  it  may  seem  to  you,  strange  as  it 
certainly  was  to  me,  doio  and  tranquil  describe  the  passage 
of  the  water  over  the  bosom  of  the  great  Fall,  where  the 
river  has  its  greatest  depth  and  wears  its  deepest  color. 
The  water  never  has  the  amber  hue  except  after  a  storm, 
when,  as  jMr.  Ingraham  tells  us,  the  stream  is  rendered  tur- 
bid above  the  rapids,  and  rushes  towards  the  Falls,  bearing 
its  muddy  current,  which,  under  the  glancing  sunbeams, 
assumes  a  rich  amber  color,  —  and  the  very  impurities  of  the 
river  are  converted  into  beauty.  .  .  . 


1824-1836.]  MORNING   WORK.  153 

"  We  have  seen  and  enjoyed  much  at  Niagara  and  Trenton. 
Of  course  we  have  thought  and  felt  as  well  as  seen.  One 
impression  has  prevailed  over  every  other  in  my  mind, — 
this  is  a  beautiful  world  in  which  we  live.  There  is  beauty 
everywhere,  —  above  us,  around  us,  in  the  perishable  forms 
and  the  more  durable  aspects  of  nature.  The  creation  is  a 
vast  storehouse  of  beauty,  or  rather  a  mirror  reflecting  con- 
tinually the  Infinite  Beauty  in  which  it  had  its  source.  For 
all  this  variety  of  the  beautiful  reveals  an  Author,  intelligent 
and  loving,  of  His  creatures.  There  is  a  spirituality  in  this 
beauty  of  the  material  world  that  I  cannot  resist.  It  addresses 
the  spiritual  in  man.  It  awakens  in  him  the  consciousness 
of  a  nature  born  to  enjoy  the  lovely.  This  nature  cannot 
be  doomed  to  decay.  My  faith  in  immortality  has  gained 
strength  amidst  God's  glorious  works.  I  have  learned,  too, 
—  I  need  not,  indeed,  have  left  home  to  learn  it,  —  that  our 
sense  of  the  beautiful  depends  upon  ourselves.  If  we  are  in 
a  state  to  enjoy,  we  find  enjoyment  everywhere :  the  clouds 
feed  the  sentiment  of  delight  within  us.  If  we  are  not  in 
harmony  with  the  beautiful,  which  the  Creator  has  difi*used 
over  all  things,  even  Niagara  loses  its  charm.  .  .  . 

"The  intelligence  which  your  letter  and  the  newspapers 
have  given  us  of  the  burning  of  the  Catholic  nunnery  at 
Charlestown  by  the  mob  makes  me,  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life,  ashamed  of  my  home.  I  know  of  nothing  so  atrocious 
within  my  recollection,  and  scarcely  within  the  history  of  our 
land.  I  do  not  wonder  that  you  have  been  kept  in  great 
excitement  at  Boston.  Nothing  can  be  done  to  erase  the 
reproach.  It  'must  remain  upon  us  so  long  as  there  shall 
be  tongues  to  tell  of  the  deed. 

"Your  account  of  the  preaching  gratified  me  much.  I 
knew  our  people  could  not  but  be  delighted  with  Mr.  Fur- 
ness.  .  .   . 

"  Yours  gratefully  and  afiectionately, 

"  Ezra  S.  Gannett." 


154  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1824-1836 

But  all  through  the  glad  six  months  of  the  betrothal, 
the  tired  brain  gave  omens  ;  and  the  letters  that  go  to 
and  fro  are  sad  as  well  as  tender.  Only  a  few  weeks 
before  the  wedding-day  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Tilden,  "  It 
seems  to  me  that  I  am  worn  out;"  and  doubts  whether 
he  ought  not  to  delay  the  marriage  a  few  months,  and  seek 
some  other  employment.  Yet,  *'  if  I  could  only  believe 
I  were  a  good  minister,  I  should  be  as  happy  as  mortal 
man  ought  to  be  in  this  world." 

The  new  home  began.  Barely  a  half-year  had  they 
been  in  it,  darkened  not  seldom  by  his  sad  mood,  when 
the  hour  so  long  delayed  arrived.  All  the  regular  work 
was  driving  on ;  a  volume  of  selections,  called  "  Relig- 
ious Consolation,"  had  just  been  compiled  and  edited ; 
and  a  course  of  lectures  on  grander  themes  than  ever  — 
that  already  mentioned  on  the  ••'  History  of  Revealed 
Religions  "  —  was  half-way  through,  when,  by  the  wife's 
urgency,  a  doctor  was  at  last  consulted.  And  suddenly 
words  appeared  in  the  "  preaching-book "  that  had 
never  appeared  there  before  since  he  had  been  in  Bos- 
ton :  Sunday,  March  27,  1836.  "  Stayed  at  home  all 
day."  Then:  "March  31.  I  went  to  Roxbury,  and 
did  not  return  to  Boston  to  remain  till  — ". 

The  doctor's  sentence  of  banishment  was  instant. 
"  Mr.  Gannett,  from  excessive  and  long-continued  ex- 
ertion of  mind,  has  fallen  into  a  state  of  great  nervous 
weakness :  "  work  of  every  kind  must  be  stopped,  and 
a  montli  or  two  would  decide  what  next.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Clapp,  two  friends  very  dear  to  him,  received  the  sick 
man  into  their  country  home  at  Leicester.  There  he 
waited,  overcome  with  sorrow  at  h'^ving  forfeited  his 
opportunity  of  work,  and  longing  W  just  one  trial 
more,  when  he  would  be  so  very  Wise  and  careful. 
They  wanted  preaching  at  Peoria  in  Ilhnois,  the  paper 


1824-1836.]  MORNING  WORK.  155 

said :  could  he  not  commute  his  sentence  to  a  few 
weeks  of  missionary-service  in  prairie-land?  Every 
thing  seemed  to  him  to  point  fingers  at  his  idleness. 
Did  he  read  a  good  article  in  the  ''  Examiner,"  it 
only  made  him  heart-sick,  recalling  his  inability  to  do 
what  his  brethren  were  doing.  One  month,  at  most 
two  months,  of  rest,  —  then,  surely,  he  would  be  well 
enough  to  be  again  among  them  !  But  the  friends  knew 
better.  The  young  wife  took  down  the  curtains,  laid 
the  manuscripts  reverently  in  the  study-table  drawers, 
packed  the  furniture,  and  gave  up  the  six  months'  home 
to  strangers  ;  he,  the  while,  appealing  to  her  to  be 
slow,  and  to  forgive  him  for  ''  the  fraud  he  had  com- 
mitted on  her  happiness  ;  "  she  in  all  tenderness  consult- 
ing him  in  nightly  letters,  but  firmly,  sadly  doing  the 
thing  that  must  be  done.  Then,  when  that  broken 
hope  was  all  sealed  into  the  past,  she  joined  her  hus- 
band, to  comfort  and  strengthen  him. 

No  comfort  and  no  strength  could  reach  him.  The 
doctor  soon  decreed  new  grief,  —  a  voyage  to  Europe  ; 
and,  to  make  the  change  from  home-associations  as  com- 
plete as  possible,  it  was  thought  best  that  he  should  go 
alone.  The  parish  had  promptly  voted  to  relieve  him  of 
all  care  for  a  year,  supply  the  pulpit,  and  continue  his 
full  salary.  That  again  was  bitter,  bitter  trial,  —  to  be 
their  object  of  expense  at  the  very  moment  he  was  fail- 
ing them.  Their  kindness  seemed  to  him  unparalleled. 
But  all  was  gradually  yielded  to  the  inevitable.  The 
lonely  man  went  on  board  the  vessel  in  New  York,  and 
still  another  sum  of  money  was  put  into  his  hands. 
''  When  I  think  how  small,  how  less  than  nothing,  — 
for  such  they  seem  to  me,  —  are  my  claims  to  the  love 
of  these  friends,  when  I  consider  how  much  more  I 
mif^ht  liave  done,  I  wonder  at  them  and  I  wonder  at 


156  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT.         [1824-1836. 

myself."  He  left  for  them  a  letter  of  the  most  grate- 
ful, tenderest  good-by.  The  benediction  of  Dr.  Chan- 
ning  followed  him  :  — 

"  I  can  only  express  my  gratitude  to  God  for  your  faith- 
fulness to  the  people  and  your  kindness  to  me.  You  carry 
with  you  my  sympathy,  esteem,  affection.  May  God  restore 
you  to  be  a  blessing  to  us ! " 


-m^ 


^f-S-' 


VI. 


REST   m  EUROPE. 

1836-1838. 

As  the  husband  and  wife  parted,  their  promise  to 
each  other  was  "  to  be  cheerful  for  one  another's  sake." 
No  task  so  impossible  as  that  to  the  half-despairing  exile, 
lonely  with  a  loneliness  that  defied  all  the  kind  atten- 
tions of  the  friend  who  shared  the  state-room.  He  felt 
able  to  converse  with  no  one.  "  Oh  that  I  had  more  ac- 
complishment or  more  impudence  !  "  The  ocean  smote 
him  with  a  sense  of  limitation,  not  of  vastncbS.  No  day 
so  solemn  as  the  Sabbath  day  at  sea,  in  his  ideal,  —  how 
sadly  disappointing  the  reality !  All  around  him  the 
conversation  trifled,  with  no  word,  no  look,  of  awe  : 
"  And  3^et  I  ought  to  acknowledge  the  greater  quiet  that 
prevailed.  We  were  in  a  Christian  vessel,  every  one 
must  have  felt,  —  so  powerful  an  influence  does  Chris- 
tianity exert  indirectly  upon   the    habits  of  men.      It 


158  EZBA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1836-1838. 

controls  where  it  does  not  sanctify."     Of  course,  he 
held  a  service,  reading  one  of  Dewey's  sermons. 
Now  and  then  the  dreaded  feelings  returned  :  — 

"What  a  strange  experience  mipe  is!  It  must  be  in  a 
measure,  at  least,  disease ;  for  when  I  am  overcome  by  these 
sensations  or  emotions,  whichever  they  be,  I  am  equally  dis- 
tressed and  helpless.  I  am  but  experiencing  the  just  pun- 
ishment of  years  of  negligence  and  folly,  of  indolence  and 
self-indulgence.  It  is  right.  I  do  not  complain.  I  am  only 
ashamed  and  discouraged.  Still  I  have  promised  to  try,  and 
I  will." 

The  sight  of  land  brought  back  strong  longings  for 
his  work,  and  the  rhythm  of  the  sermons  still  flows  in 
the  Journal,  as  he  words  it :  — 

"  If  I  return  to  my  ministry,  I  must  be  more  diligent  in 
my  study,  and  more  active  out  of  it,  than  I  have  ever  been. 
Regular  and  ceaseless  labor  should  be  the  Christian  minis- 
ter's rule.  Labor,  —  for  he  has  an  immense  work  to  perform. 
Ceaseless,  —  for  his  responsibilities  are  various  and  useful. 
Regular,  —  because  it  is  the  want  of  method,  not  the  excess 
of  toil,  that  breaks  down  a  clergyman." 

This  visit  to  Europe  fell  in  the  days  when  old  styles 
of  locomotion  were  giving  way  to  new.  A  sailing- 
vessel  bore  him  out :  the  ''  Great  Western,"  pioneer 
of  ocean  steamships,  brought  him  back.  It  was  the 
birthday  of  the  telegraph :  "  They  can  communicate 
by  telegraph  from  Portsmouth  to  London  in  eight  and 
a  half  minutes  !  "  The  railways,  also,  had  begun  to  be  ; 
l)ut  none  yet  stretched  over  the  southern  downs.  So  the 
"  Regulator  "  stage-coach  carried  the  sea- travellers,  in  a 
long  day,  up  to  the  great  city  ;  and  their  earliest  Lon- 
don "  sight "  was  a  glimpse  of  the  mail-coaches  starting 
forth  from  the  ]*ost-Office,  each  with  a  guard,  and  each 
guard  with  his  trumpet. 


1836-1838.]  REST  IN  EUROPE.  159 

•  Mr.  Gannett's  tour  differed  little  from  that  of  the 
thousand  travellers  of  every  day.  Its  sole  peculiarity 
was  that  he  looked  on  all  things  with  ministerial  eyes. 
Everywhere  he  goes,  he  records  the  Sunday  ways,  the 
churchly  practices.  A  somewhat  detailed  picture  of 
English  Unitarianism  and  its  clergy  of  forty  years  could 
be  drawn  from  the  sketches  in  his  diary.  We  shall  cite 
little  but  a  passage  here  and  there  which  thus  reflects 
himself  rather  than  his  sight-seeing. 

On  the  first  Sunday  the  New  England  minister  found 
his  way  into  five  services  !  He  notes  "  the  persons  who 
read,  or  rather  chanted,  (nefandum  !^  the  prayers." 
Among  the  others,  William  J.  Fox  and  Sydney  Smith 
had  that  day's  preaching  reported ;  and  one  of  the  lat- 
ter's  sentences  struck  home  to  a  sensitive  heart,  —  "  she 
who  has  agreed  to  share  half  her  husband's  joys,  and, 
God  knows,  has  agreed  to  share  more  than  half  his 
sorrows." 

Wretched  days  these  first  ones  must  have  been.  "  The 
vastness  and  loneliness  of  the  great  metropolis  have  over- 
whelmed me.  ...  I  stayed  at  the  London  Coffee-House 
till  I  was  almost  heart-broken."  Then  kind  friends  took 
him  home ;  but  still  no  peace.  One  new  friend,  how- 
ever, had  power  to  soothe  ;  and  the  charm  of  his  good- 
ness is  attested  in  many  grateful  praises  :  — 

"Dr.  Boott  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  men  on  earth. 
Such  true  friendship  I  have  scarce  ever  seen,  and  such  a  fine 
religious  spirit.  He  is  a  Christian  in  the  highest  sense  of  the 
word,  one  who  has  known  trial  of  the  sharper  sort,  and 
leanied  the  lessons  of  firmness,  submission,  and  hope.  Such 
a  man  is  a  rare  gift  of  God  to  the  world.  '  I  give  only  one 
invitation,'  said  Dr.  B.  at  dinner.  'Come  at  all  times, — 
morning,  noon,  or  night,  —  and  use  us  as  your  friends.'  One 
could  not  distrust  the  sincerity  of  the  invitation.     I  felt  at 


160  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1836-1833. 

home  at  once ;  and  it  was  a  relief  to  feel  myself  among  friends^ 
in  this  new  world.  Dr.  B.  had  much  to  say  about  Mr. 
Phillips,  Tuckerman,  Dewey,  and  Rammohun  Roy.  Of  the 
last  he  could  not  speak  without  emotion,  so  great  is  his  rever- 
ence for  him.  He  says  Boston  has  sent  an  influence  across 
the  ocean,  which  is  felt  in  England,  in  the  Establishment 
even.  "Wliile  English  society  indicates  a  higher  refinement, 
there  is  an  order  of  mind,  of  which  Mr.  Phillips  is  a  represen- 
tative, existing  in  America,  that  cannot  be  found  in  England, 
His  views  of  the  religious  state  of  England  are  sad.  Religion 
he  believes  to  be  a  form,  not  understood  or  valued  in  its  true 
character.  .  .  .  Dr.  B.  seemed  to  understand  my  case  per- 
fectly, and  said  I  must  be  willing  to  have  entire  repose  of 
mind.  With  patience  and  hope,  he  has  no  doubt  I  shall  be 
as  strong  as  ever." 

But  the  wise  doctor  had  seen  more  than  he  told  ;  and 
straightway  a  wondering  letter  sped  across  the  Atlantic, 
declaring  that  the  wife  must  come  at  once.  In  two  days 
she  was  on  the  wa}^  alone  and  anxious,  through  the  long 
mid-winter  voyage.  "  I  dare  not  think  how  I  may  find 
my  dear  husband :  he  will  have  a  glorious  futurity,  — 
that  I  am  sure  of,"  —  was  the  thought  that  kept  her 
company. 

Meanwhile,  the  first  home-words  had  come :  — 

"Nov.  7,  1836.  Went  to  Baring  &  Co.'s,  and  found  letters 
from  home, —  one  from  my  own  Anna.  Oh,  how  welcome 
they  were !  I  sat  down  in  the  counting-room,  and  cried  as  I 
read  them.  It  is  strange  to  read  of  such  kindness  as  these 
letters  express  and  announce,  —  strange  that  people  should 
think  80  much  better  of  me  than  I  deserve." 

There  were  trustful  words  from  the  mother  and  sisters, 
who  tried  to  make  the  sufferer  believe  the  faith  and 
pride  they  had  in  him,  in  spite  of  the  sad  life  to  which 
he  seemed  to  have  led  one  so  dear  to  them.     And  the 


1836-1838.]  REST  IN  EUROPE.  161 

parish  sent  its  true  love  to  him.  "You  can  scarcely 
imagine  the  sensation  which  the  arrival  of  news  from 
you  has  created.  It  has  been  a  complete  levee  morning," 
writes  the  wife.  "  If  you  could  have  heard  Dr.  Chan- 
ning  j^esterday  at  the  communion-table  return  thanks  to 
our  Father  for  the  '  good  tidings,'  you  would  have  been 
almost  tempted  to  exclaim.  Behold  how  he  loved  him  !  " 
But  plainly  salvation  did  not  lie  in  London  for  him  : 
three  weeks  of  the  life  had  brought  nothing  but  fatigue 
and  excitement.  So  he  crossed  the  Channel,  still  cared 
for  by  the  good  companion  of  his  voyage.  They  roved 
through  the  cities  of  Holland  and  Belgium  towards 
Paris,  where  again  friends  gave  warm  welcome  to  their 
home.  A  Sunday  in  Rotterdam  left  its  longing  in  the 
Journal :  — 

"  "Why  does  not  the  truth  of  His  presence  who  is  never 
absent  prevent  this  oppression  of  solitude,  and  why  do  I  not 
hold  communion  with  the  Invisible?  Why  is  not  the  Infinite 
real  to  my  imagination  and  my  heart?  Alas !  these  questions 
go  to  the  root  of  my  difficulty.  God  help  me  to  correct  ray- 
self,  and  to  profit  by  His  gracious  discipHne.  Oh  that  I  might 
learn  in  foreign  lands  how  to  use  and  enjoy  ray  Sundays  at 
home!" 

"  Jan.  1, 1837.  Paris,  at  Mr.  Lane's.  What  thoughts  crowd 
upon  rae,  —  recollections  of  home,  of  past  mercies,  of  past 
scenes  of  anxiety  and  perplexity !  How  woncleifal  has  been 
the  loving  kindness  of  God,  how  remarkable  the  kindness  of 
my  fellow-men  !  Never  was  one  so  blessed,  never  one  so  un- 
thankful. Constant  experience  of  divine  and  human  good- 
ness seems  only  to  have  hardened  my  heart  alike  against  the 
sense  of  God's  beneficence  and  man's  regard.  This  is  the 
thought  that  has  recurred  with  most  force  to  day.  I  would 
make  some  good  and  effectual  resolutions  for  the  future ;  res- 
olutions of  self-denial,  of  mortification  of  bodily  appetite, — 
my  besetting  sin ;    of  trust  in  God ;  patience  under  disap- 

11 


162  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT,         [1836-1838. 

pointment ;  gratitude  for  the  countless  gifts  of  every  hour ; 
penitence  for  past  sins,  and  fidelity  henceforth  in  my  social 
relations.  Oh,  may  I  keep  them !  Dear  Anna,  God  be  with 
us  both !  If  I  can  only  come  to  feel  His  presence,  I  shall  be 
at  peace." 

He  kept  an  interesting  memorandum  of  conversations 
with  M.  Coquerel,  the  elder,  then  the  leading  Protestant 
minister  in  France  :  — 

"  I  went  to  call  on  Rev.  Athanase  Coquerel  to-day  with 
John  Parkman,  and  found  him  altogether  agreeable.  Our 
conversation  related  almost  wholly  to  the  state  and  pros- 
pects of  religion  in  France.  He  says  that  Catholicism  in 
France  is  prostrate,  and  '  can  never  revive.'  The  priests  of 
the  Catholic  Church  he  represented  as  extremely  ignorant, 
and  as  taken  from  the  lower  classes  of  the  people.  *  The 
French  people  are  Theists,  —  believers  in  God,  providence, 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  a  future  life  of  retribution ; 
but  not  Christians,  —  believers  in  the  divine  mission  of 
Jesus  Christ.'  In  reply  to  a  question  expressing  a  doubt 
on  this  point,  he  reiterated  his  conviction  that  the  French, 
with  few  exceptions,  were  believers  in  these  doctrines  of  God 
and  immortality.  The  tendency,  he  says,  is  towards  religion, 
not  from  it.  But  there  is  a  sad  want  of  the  means  by  which 
this  tendency  may  be  encouraged  and  fulfilled.  Methodism 
in  France,  by  which  he  meant  what  is  called  the  Evangelical 
party  in  England  (and  Orthodoxy  with  us),  has  done  great 
harm  to  Protestantism.  The  efibrts  of  Methodism  have  all 
mistaken  the  French  mind.  Religion  must  be  presented 
to  the  French  as  an  element  of  progress  in  every  thing,  —  in 
the  arts,  in  science,  in  politics.  The  French  read  nothing  but 
newspapers,  and  read  these  to  excess.  He  avowed  himself 
neither  a  Trinitarian  nor  a  Unitarian ;  but  when  I  said  he 
could  not  use  the  latter  term  in  our  sense,  which  meant  an 
unbeliever  in  the  Trinity,  he  replied  that  he  was,  then,  decid- 
edly a  Unitarian.     His  views  of  the  rank  of  the  Saviour  he 


1836-1838.] 


REST  IN  EUROPE.  163 


said  he  could  express  in  two  words,  — viz.,  'Christ  above  all, 
and  God  above  Christ.'  lie  will  not  take  names;  neither 
does  he  seem  to  care  because  they  are  applied  to  him.  He 
did  not  appear  to  have  read  Dr.  Channing's  books,  nor  to 
know  much  of  Unitarianism  in  the  United  States. 

"M.  Coquerel  was  evidently  aware  of  the  importance  of 
his  situation,  which  he  probably  exaggerates  a  little.    His 
study  is  continually  visited  by  persons  who  come  to  consult 
him  on  domestic  as  well  as  religious  subjects.     One  effect  of 
the  Catholic  religion  upon  those  who  have  thrown  off  its 
authority,  is  seen  in  the  habit  of  his  people  of  making  him 
the  depository  of  their  secret  history  and  the  history  of  their 
families.     They  treat  him  as  their  confessor.     He  knows  the 
private  affairs  of  many  a  family,  some  of  them  in  high  life, 
as  well  as  of  his  own.     Parents  come  to  him  to  provide  hus- 
bands for  their  daughters.     As  a  proof  of  the  disposition  of 
the  people  towards  an  enlightened  and  liberal  Protestantism, 
he  stated  that  this  morning  a  lady,  herself  Catholic,  had 
been  to  him  to  beg  him  to  instruct  her  three  children  in  the 
Protestant  fiith.     A  Catholic  priest,  too,  had  been  to  talk 
with  him.     He  seemed  to  entertain  sanguine  hopes  of  the 
progress  of  correct  religious  views  in  France ;  and  yet,  when 
I  asked  what  means  existed  in  Paris  for  their   diffusion, 
beside  his  preaching  and  the  personal  influence  of  those  who 
accorded  with  him,  he  said  none,  and  represented  the  Protes- 
tant Church  and  the  theological  schools  as  in  a  most  sad 
condition,  partly  at  least  in  consequence  of  the  mismanage- 
ment of  the  Government." 

Once  or  twice  with  his  home-made  French  he  made 
an  odd  mistake,  as  when  he  mistook  an  ahhatoir 
*' wonderfully  neat  and  sweet"  for  the  Hospice  de  la 
Salpetriere;  and  when  he  obtained  admission  at  the 
H6tel  Dieu,  where  entrance  was  refused,  by  innocently 
insisting,  ''  Je  suis  un  Stranger,  un  Americain  ministre.'* 
He  did  not  know  what  honors  he  had  claimed  till  the 


164  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT,         [183G-1838. 

laughing  friends  at  home  assured  him  he  was  only  '•  un 
pasteur." 

Then  back  to  London  to  finish  the  waiting.  One 
night,  sadly  disap2)ointed  at  the  empty  stage,  he  returned 
to  his  lodgings  —  to  find  her  there  ! 

"Oh,  what  a  blessed  meeting.  God  be  thanked  for  His 
goodness  to  me!  Had  tea,  and  talked,  because  we  could 
not  sleep,  till  3  or  4  o'clock.  Strength  and  hope  have  gained 
the  victory  over  discouragement,  and  all  this  improvement 
I  owe  to  her  through  whom  I  should  most  desire  to  receive 
it,  my  wife,  my  own  Anna." 

"London,  Feb.  10,  1837. 
"  My  dear  Mrs.  Tilden,  —  My  first  letter  after  Anna's 
arrival  is  due  to  you,  for  from  you  I  received  the  treasure 
which  every  day  has  more  and  more  proved  her  to  be. 
Have  we  not  both  reason  to  be  proud,  you  of  such  a  daugh- 
ter and  I  of  such  a  wife?  What  affection  and  what  energy 
has  she  shown!  Just  think  of  the  same  being,  who, 
eighteen  months  ago,  shrunk,  with  the  timidity  that  her 
habits  of  seclusion  had  nourished,  from  exposure  to  new  faces 
and  strange  scenes,  now  leaving  her  home  at  two  days' 
notice,  travelling  in  mid-winter  to  New  York,  and  thence 
coming  across  the  ocean  alone,  to  meet  a  husband  who  had 
given  her  only  anxiety  and  disappointment  almost  ever 
since  their  marriage.  .  .  .  You  do  not  know  what  a  differ- 
ence has  been  wrought  in  my  feelings.  .  .  .  For  the  first 
time  during  many  weeks  I  have  within  the  last  two  days 
cherished  the  thought  that  I  may  return  to  my  ministry. 
It  Jias  seemed  to  me  impossible,  but  now  I  hope  I  may  go 
home  to  live  among  those  who  have  done  so  much  for  me." 

The  ill  turns  were  by  no  means  over,  but  in  between 
them  now  the  pleasant  time  began  for  both.  Hastening 
through  Paris  and  Marseilles,  they  reached  Rome,  and 
a   third   time   found   home  with   Boston  friends;    for 


1836-1838.]  REST  IN  EUROPE.  165 

Mr.  Ticknor  welcomed  them  to  ''the  iippei  story  of 
one  of  the  best  houses  in  Rome,  where  they  have  given 
us  a  nice  chamber  and  made  us  members  of  their  family. 
What  kindness  we  meet  with  everywhere!"  After  a 
few  weeks  among  the  churches  and  pictures  and  ruins, 
they  turned  northwards.  More  than  once  a  word  like 
this  occurs  among  their  notes :  — 

"  At  the  Tuscan  border,  the  custom-house  men  proposed  to 
let  our  baggage  pass  witliout  examination,  for  a  fee.  I  re- 
fused, but  it  was  paid  for  me  by  the  others." 

May  7,  Sunday  at  Verona.  "  Here  I  did  very  wrong.  It 
was  Sunday.  I  felt  it  was  not  right  to  travel ;  yet  the  inn 
was  noisy,  and  the  town  full  of  people  aj^parently  engaged  in 
their  usual  pursuits.  After  some  hesitation,  I  decided  to  go 
on.  This,  perhaps,  was  not  very  wrong,  —  but  then  I  wished 
to  see  the  amphitheatre,  and  we  set  out  by  ourselves  to  find 
it ;  by  mistake  went  to  another  part  of  the  town,  and  spent 
an  hour  and  a  half  walking  about  and  sight-seeing,  —  then 
came  on.  The  ride  was  wretched  by  my  consciousness  of 
sin.  I  ought  to  have  made  so  much  distinction  between 
Sunday  and  the  other  days  as  to  have  rested." 

It  spoiled  three  days  for  the  travellers,  for  on  Tues- 
day there  is  record,  "  We  have  been  made  very  un- 
happy to-da}'  by  the  recollection  of  our  fault  at  Verona." 
Some  time  later,  in  the  Journal,  while  speaking  of  notions 
confirmed  and  notions  altered  by  his  travel,  he  writes : 
"  My  ideas  respecting  the  proper  method  of  spending 
the  Sabbath  have  undergone  a  great  change."  Yet  to 
the  end  of  his  life  that  Saturday  evening  silence  and 
the  Sabbath  window-seat  in  the  old  home  fixed  his 
feeling  on  this  point. 

Florence,  Venice,  Milan,  were  much  enjoyed. 

"  Every  thing  we  saw  in  Italy  was  a  lesson.  Painting  and 
statuary  became  to  us  revelations  of  unknown  truths  and 


166  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1836-1838. 

unimagincd  feelings.  Rome  alone  is  worth  ten  voyages 
across  the  Atlantic.  At  Venice  I  can  say  we  learned  to  love 
Titian,  as  before  we  had  acquired  almost  an  aifection  for 
Raphael.     Xow  do  not  laugh.     This  is  all  true." 

By  the  time  they  reached  Switzerland,  the  Journal 
blossomed  with  thanksgivings  and  delight.  Geneva 
affoided  ground  for  studjdng  Unitarianism  as  a  '^  Na- 
tional Church."  Stranger  yet  it  seemed  to  Unitarian 
eyes  that  the  one  place  on  earth  where  this  sight  could 
be  seen  should  be  John  Calvin's  city.  Here  the  "  Sepa- 
ratists "  were  the  Trinitarians.  He  made  acquaintance 
with  M.  Cheneviere,  M.  Cellerier,  the  Comte  Sellon, 
and  others,  and  found  out  from  their  conversation  that 
his  own  faith  as  an  Established  Church  shared  the  faults 
of  all  "  Establishments." 

"  The  Unitarians  here  are  all  Arians,  and  on  the  subject 
of  the  eternity  of  future  punishment  they  say  nothing.  M. 
Gapt  says  there  are  in  the  National  Church  a  great  many 
who  agree  with  the  Separatists  in  sentiment,  are  Trinitarians 
and  moderate  Calvinists,  but  do  not  think  it  right  or  best  to 
withdraw  from  the  Church.  There  are  many  who  think  that 
the  Trinity  is  a  subject  so  mysterious  that  they  will  neither 
deny  nor  assert  it.  This  class  he  believes  is  increasing. 
The  ministers  of  the  Established  Church  write  and  commit 
their  sermons.  Wlien  chosen,  they  swear  to  observe  the 
rules  of  the  Council  of  State,  therefore  cannot  separate  the 
Church  from  the  State ;  but  there  are  Orthodox  ministers  as 
well  as  laymen  in  the  National  Church. 

"  The  religious  aspect  of  affairs  does  not  gratify  me.  I 
doubt  if  Unitarianism  be  progressive  here  at  present;  or 
rather,  while  Unitarianism  is  stationary.  Orthodoxy,  I  sus- 
pect, gradually  spreads.  The  Unitarians,  I  am  afraid,  are 
not  as  active,  zealous,  or  religious  as  they  should  be.  The 
instruction  of  the  young  does  not  seem  to  me  thorough,  and 


1836-1838.]  REST  IN  EUROPE,  167 

the  exercises  of  the  pulpit  are  not  so  frequent  as  with  us. 
Only  four  churches,  served  by  fifteen  ministers,  preaching 
only  once  a  day  on  Sunday.  I  have  been  very  often  re- 
minded of  home  by  what  I  have  seen.  The  history  and 
present  state  of  Unitarianism  seem  to  me  very  similar  here 
and  with  us." 

A  lingering  drift  by  row-boat  down  the  Rhine  made 
the  heart  of  June  beautiful ;  and  thence  they  came 
again  to  Paris.  What  next  ?  A  question  which  only  the 
doctors  could  answer.  Dr.  Louis  said,  ••' Return  now  to 
work,  and  you  will  soon  be  prostrate  where  you  were." 
Yet  delay  seemed  impossible.  In  lieu  of  longer  absence, 
then,  the  Baths  of  Vichy  were  recommended  as  a  speedy 
wonder-worker.  The  stirs  of  fasliion  had  hardly  yet 
disturbed  the  natives  in  their  hay-fields.  There  they 
stayed  six  weeks,  enjoj^ing  the  hour-long  baths,  the 
drinkings,  and  the  donkey-rides,  and  restful  idle  days,  — 
immured  by  their  language  from  the  other  visitors. 
The  peasants'  life,  their  farming  and  their  festivals,  the 
dancing  and  the  Sunday  worship,  the  odd  dress  and 
pleasant,  courteous  manners,  all  went  into  their  chron- 
icle. The  waters  seemed  to  give  new  life,  and  he  wrote 
that  he  was  ''perfectly  well."  Once  he  made  a  donkey- 
expedition  to  Gannat,  a  little  town  eleven  miles  east- 
ward, hoping  to  find  some  traces  of  his  ancestry.  But 
the  editor  of  the  village  paper  assured  him  that  the 
Romans  called  the  place  Gannatum,  which,  if  true, 
proved  too  much,  and  he  returned  from  his  donkey-ride 
as  sireless  as  he  went. 

On  the  way  back  to  Paris,  they  stopped  at  Moulins 
on  an  errand  of  Unitarian  sympathy.  Channing's  brill- 
iant young  ally  in  the  early  movement  out  from  Ortho- 
doxy had  sickened  and  died  here  among  strangers, 
twenty  years  before.     In  a  corner  of  the  old  graveyard 


1G8  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1836-1838. 

they  found  the  cracked  and  moss-grown  stone,  "  Memo- 
rise sacrum  Reverend!  Samuel  Cooper  Thacher,"  and 
made  arrangements  by  which  its  preservation  might  be 
secured  by  friends  at  home. 

Just  where  or  when  another  story,  not  unlike,  belongs, 
does  not  appear  from  the  Journal ;  but  it  may  come  in 
here  for  us  as  Dr.  Hedge  tells  it :  — 

"  TraveUing  in  Europe  many  years  since,  Mr.  Gannett 
chanced  upon  a  fellow-countryman,  unknown  to  him  before, 
journeyed  with  him  for  one  or  two  days,  then  parted  from 
him  in  some  continental  town,  leaving  him  not  dangerously 
ill,  but  too  indisposed  to  continue  his  journey,  and  needing 
longer  rest.  At  the  end  of  the  second  day  this  traveller, 
from  whose  own  lips  I  had  the  story,  saw  to  his  great  sur- 
prise Mr.  Gannett  return,  having  retraced  his  steps  many 
miles,  irresistibly  drawn  by  the  thought  that  a  stranger  in  a 
strange  land  might  need  a  compatriot's  aid.'* 

At  Paris  a  letter  came  "  from  the  committee  of  our 
church,  giving  me  leave  to  stay  till  next  July.  Written, 
too,  before  they  knew  of  my  intention  of  going  to 
Vichy.  Was  there  ever  such  kindness  ?  I  declare,  I 
do  doubt  if  the  world  can  furnish  another  such  in- 
stance." His  society  had  mdeed  been  generous.  It 
had  been  a  most  disastrous  season  to  the  business  men 
at  home,  yet  it  was  voted  unanimously  that  their  pas- 
tor's term  of  absence  be  extended  another  year,  and 
that  his  salary  be  continued  as  hitherto,  the  society 
supplying  the  desk  at  its  own  charge. 

He  hesitated  long  before  accepting  the  kindness. 
They  were  very  homesick :  he  longed  for  his  pulpit  and 
the  faces  and  the  homes.  Yet  perplexity,  or  long  con- 
tinued effort  of  any  khid,  brought  the  old  symptoms 
back.  The  inward  warnings  were  too  plain  to  be 
ignored,  and  the  physicians  consulted  in  Paris  and  Lon- 


1S36-1838.]  BEST  IN  EUROPE.  169 

don  with  one  voice  declared  the  clanger  of  resuming 
work. 

"  I  cannot  take  up  again  the  engagements  of  my  profes- 
sion gradually,"  he  writes  Mr.  Savage.  "  I  should  be  com- 
pelled, alike  by  feelings  and  by  circumstances,  to  enter  upon 
them  all  at  once ;  and,  until  I  am  stronger  than  at  present, 
I  should  dread  the  effect  of  such  a  change  in  my  habits. 
Every  week  makes  me  feel  more  ability  as  well  as  more  de- 
sire to  resume  my  occupations ;  and  I  trust  that  my  wish  will 
yet  be  realized,  of  doing  something  for  the  cause  of  truth 
among  those  to  whom  the  only  return  I  can  make  for  their 
long  and  patient  tenderness  towards  me  will  be  the  exer- 
tion of  all  my  powers  in  their  behalf" 

So  to  England  again,  where  they  were  to  spend 
their  new  year,  and  form  many  pleasant  friendships. 
Wherever  acquaintance  led  to  friendship,  he  writes 
home  that  he  found  "  the  best  qualities  of  mind  and 
heart ; "  yet  our  democratic  travellers  felt  the  absence 
of  geniality  in  the  general  tone  of  society,  —  "a  sort 
of  national  self-complacency  in  one  form  or  another 
pervading  all  classes,  and  giving  a  tincture  even  to  their 
manners  towards  each  other." 

They  paused  in  London  long  enough  for  him  to  give 
thanks,  —  "  how  different  am  I  to-day  from  what  I  was 
just  a  year  ago!  "  —  and  then,  although  nearly  winter, 
set  out  for  the  Lakes  of  Westmoreland  and  the  Scottish 
Highlands.  Everywhere  the  ministers  were  hospitable 
to  the  Boston  brother.  Crossing  from  Glasgow,  he  made 
friends  with  those  of  Dublin  and  Belfast  also. 

Trosachs,  Dec.  15,  1837.  "We  may  have  lost  much 
from  the  lateness  of  our  visit,  but  we  have  gained  no  incon- 
siderable advantage  in  the  hues  which  the  mountains  wear 
at  this  season;  rich  and  various  beyond  any  thing  I  had 
imagined  that  herbage  could  produce,  and  giving,  when  seen 


170  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1836-1838. 

ill  the  pcTfect  reflection  of  the  still  lake,  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  pictures  that  even  Nature  can  furnish.  Such  a  sight 
vre  had  on  Wednesday,  in  passing  Loch  Lubnaig,  where  the 
vast  hill  that  rises  from  the  water's  edge  on  its  western  side 
was  seen  as  distinctly  below  the  surface  as  in  the  upper  air, 
with  each  tint  of  earth  and  stone  and  heath  clearly  defined. 
One  lesson  I  have  learned,  not  to  take  any  individual's 
opinion  of  particular  scenery,  so  much  depends  on  the  cir- 
cumstances and  the  feeling-s  that  distinguish  each  visit.  I 
do  not  wonder  now  when  my  experience  in  visiting  a  place 
is  totally  different  from  that  which  other  travellers  had  led 
me  to  expect.  .  .  . 

"We  arrived  at  Taymouth  just  at  sunset;  and,  as  ^ve 
crossed  the  bridge  which  spans  the  river  at  its  departure 
from  the  lake,  Ave  stopped  to  gaze  on  a  spectacle  unlike  any 
other  I  ever  saw.  On  our  left  the  sun  had  sunk  beneath  the 
clouds  which  filled  the  whole  space  across  the  head  of  the 
lake,  bounded  as  it  there  is  on  either  hand  by  hills,  but  these 
clouds  were  actually  burning  with  the  deepest  colors.  But 
when  we  looked  to  our  right,  directly  opposite  this  magnifi- 
cence of  the  western  sky,  the  full  moon  was  pouring  forth 
her  light  and  throwing  her  beams  into  the  Tay,  as  if  in 
rivalry  of  the  orb  that  had  just  disappeared.  It  was,  too, 
but  4  P.M.,  when  we  seemed  to  be  at  once  in  the  midst  of  day 
and  night.  Though  we  are  between  56°  and  57°  north  lati- 
tude, the  roses  are  in  bud  and  bloom  at  the  corner  of  the 
house." 

December,  1837.  "I  hope  that  the  rest  of  my  life  will  not 
be  fruitless.  I  never  can  do  as  I  have  done,  but  I  have 
learned  some  wisdom  and  formed  some  resolutions  the  last 
year ;  and  I  hope  I  may  live  to  be  useful,  at  least  by  an 
example  of  cahn,  steady,  and  cheerful  duty.  I  am  a  good 
deal  older  than  I  was  a  year  ago ;  with  more  quiet  faith  and 
less  ardent  expectation." 

Sunday,  Jan.  14,  1838.  «I  have  once  more  preached, 
the  first  time  for  more  than  sixteen  months.      Kow  much 


1836-1838.]  BEST  IN  EUROPE.  171 

occasion  for  gratitude!  It  seems  to  me  tliat  every  day 
brings  fresh  reason  for  repeating  this  exch^mation.  I  preached 
extemporaneously,  and  did  not  feel  any  embarrassment  ex- 
cept when  I  suffered  my  mind  to  think,  not  of  what  I  was 
saying,  but  how  I  shoukl  say  it;  and  in  the  morning  I  did  as 
well  as  I  expected  for  the  first  time,  but  in^  the  afternoon 
was  far  from  satisfying  myself.  Still  I  have  learned  that  I 
can  preach  without  writing  to  a  strange  congregation,  and  I 
have  httle  fear  now  that  preaching  with  due  moderation  will 
hurt  me." 

In  a  sermon  that  he  listened  to  at  Edinboro',  he  saw 
himself  reflected,  —  a  vision  most  rare  for  him  to  see  in 
any  thing  that  he  liked  even  moderately  well :  — 

"  The  discourse  was  an  hour  long,  and  in  all  respects  good  ; 
not  original  nor  very  powerful,  but  clear,  definite,  and  ear- 
nest, and  was  delivered  with  animation ;  considerable  gest- 
m-e,  though  not  much  variety  of  it.  The  style,  both  of 
writing  and  preaching,  seemed  to  me  to  resemble  my  own 
very  much ;  not  remarkable  in  any  way,  but  having  that  sort 
of  genuineness  about  it  that  would  induce  people  to  listen, 
because  the  preacher  seems  to  be  persuaded  that  they  ought 
to  think  as  he  does." 

Genuineness  was  a  quality  which  he  was  quick  to 
recognize :  — 

"Dr.  Chalmers  has  a  thick  voice;  a  bad  pronunciation, 
amounting  almost  to  brogue ;  and  a  manner  that,  though  not 
awkward,  is  certainly  not  graceful.  But  there  is  an  earnest- 
ness, a  straightfonoardiiess  of  delivery,  as  if  his  sole  object 
were  to  communicate  a  conviction  with  which  his  own  mind 
were  charged.  I  saw  little  to  remind  me  of  Dr.  Channing, 
with  whom  he  has  been  compared.  Each  impresses  you  with 
the  idea  of  strong  sincerity,  but  the  fervor  of  the  one  is  marked 
by  gentleness,  while  the  other  is  rough,  without,  however, 
being  coarse.     Dr.   C.'s  lecture   this  morning  was  on   the 


172  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1886-1838. 

Trinity.  He  made  a  memorable  concession.  Besides  affirm- 
ing that  *  the  moral  influence,'  '  the  religious  use '  of  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Trinity  (so  we  may  examine  this  dogma  by  the 
test  of  moral  imj^ort)  '  lies  in  the  separate  j^ropositions,  and  not 
in  the  complex  and  comprehensive  proposition,'  he  directly 
asserted  that  *its  importance  consists  in  the  relations  which 
each  of  the  three  sustains  to  the  others.'  He  then  stated 
the  four  propositions,  each  of  which,  he  said,  was  perfectly 
intelligible :  *  1.  The  Father  is  God  ;  2.  The  Son  is  God ; 
3.  The  Holy  Spirit  is  God ;  4.  God  is  one.  If  you  ask  me 
to  reconcile  the  four,  I  answer,  I  cannot.'  '  We  require  no  one 
to  reconcile  the  jDersonality  of  each  with  the  unity  of  God.' 
The  words  in  quotation  are,  I  believe,  exactly  his  own." 

A  month's  quiet  at  an  emptied  watering-place,  Har- 
rogate at  mid-winter,  followed  this  busy  jaunting. 
Here  they  found  in  his  Patmos  a  cordial  old  sufferer  for 
righteousness'  sake,  —  the  Captain  Thrush,  of  the  Brit- 
ish Navy,  who  first  resigned  bis  commission,  and,  though 
poor,  refused  bis  half-pay  because  converted  to  peace- 
principles,  and  then  forfeited  the  sympathy  of  his 
fellow-reformers  because  converted  by  Bible  studies  to 
Unitarianism.  "  He  is  always  busy,  and  employs  him- 
self very  much  wdth  printing,  by  the  help  of  a  little 
boy,  Johnny,  the  tracts  which  he   writes." 

At  last  back  to  London,  and  into  snug  lodgings  near 
the  good  friend.  Dr.  Boott,  where  presently,  — 

"  Out  from  the  everywhere  into  here," 

a  little  girl  came  unto  them.  With  double  joy,  for  the 
health  restored  and  for  their  child,  the  grateful  parents 
now  made  ready  for  return  to  home.  In  the  Unitarian 
circle  they  met,  meantime,  with  many  a  pleasant  greet- 
ing,—from  Miss  Aikin  and  Mrs.  Joanna  Baillie,  Lady 
Byron,  Dr.  and  j\Iary  Somerville,  and  others.     To  the 


1836-1838.]  REST  IN  EUROPE.  173 

well  man  London  was  as  full  of  charm  as  to  the  sick 
man  it  had  been  full  of  gloom.  It  was  a  round  of  calls 
and  cosey  breakfasts.  He  was  much  among  the  ministers, 
in  their  homes  on  week-days,  and  on  Sundays  preaching 
from  one  chapel  to  another.  He  always  preached  extem- 
j)oraneously,  taking  themes  of  the  spiritual  life  with 
which  his  thought  and  feeling  were  most  familiar,  and 
letting  the  full  heart  speak.  Such  enthusiastic  utterance 
was  in  marked  contrast  to  that  common  in  the  English 
pulpits.  ''  The  effect  produced  by  your  discourses  AA^as 
very  great,"  wrote  Rev.  Mr.  Madge,  —  "greater  tlian  I 
have  observed  from  anj^  other  person  for  many  years. 
You  are  not,  and  you  will  not  be  quickly,  forgotten.'* 
Old  letters  that  have  recently  passed  into  biography 
speak  warmly  of  him.     Kev.  J.  J.  Ta^der  says :  — 

"  I  went  in  the  morning  to  Carter  Lane  to  hear  cm'  friend, 
Dr.  Gannett,  who  has  been  producing  a  great  sensation  in 
the  London  pulpits.  Carter  Lane  was  crowded,  galleries 
and  all.  Lady  Byron,  we  are  told,  follows  the  preacher  from 
place  to  place,  and  takes  notes  of  all  the  sermons.  .  .  .  He 
will  do  us  a  great  deal  of  good.     We  sadly  want  rousing." 

And  Miss  Aikin  writes  to  Dr.  Channing  ;  — 

"  Of  his  powers  as  a  preacher  I  have  not  enabled  myself 
to  judge,  but  I  can  bear  strong  testimony  to  the  perfect 
modesty  and  simplicity  with  which  he  receives  tokens  of  a 
success  which  would  be  sufficient  to  turn  most  heads.  Mrs. 
Joanna  Baillie  told  him  truly,  that  he  had  been  talked  of 
at  a  time  when  we  had  scarcely  leisure  to  talk  of  any  one, 
80  full  w^ere  all  heads  with  our  grand  coronation  ;  and  I  never 
saw  any  thing  more  beautiful  than  the  unaffected,  modest 
dignity  with  which  he  received  the  compliment,  —  it  would 
have  delighted  you  to  witness.  He  carries  back  with  him 
the  esteem  and  good  wishes  of  all  whose  testimony  is  worth 
having." 


174  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1836-1838. 

The  Engiisli  ministers  were  already  discussing  among 
themselves  the  subjects  which  were  about  to  startle  their 
brethren  bej'ond  the  sea,  and  their  visitor  heard  rehearsal 
of  what  he  was  to  hear  and  take  part  in  on  his  return :  — 

Oct.  2,  1837.  "Mr.  Tayler  (Rev.  J.  J.)  invited  ns  last 
evening  to  breakfast  with  him  this  morning.  An  ample  but 
simple  breakfast  was  prepared,  and,  in  the  midst  of  agreeable 
conversation,  the  morning  passed  as  if  on  wings.  We  sat 
around  the  table  till  almost  one  o'clock.  Our  topics  were 
principally  the  religious  nature  of  man,  whether  he  might  be 
termed  a  religious  being  in  the  same  sense  as  he  is  styled  a 
moral  being,  and  the  importance  of  external  or  miraculous 
testimony  to  Christianity.  Mr.  Tayler  expressly  avowed  his 
belief  in  the  miracles  ;  but  they  are  not,  to  his  mind,  a  ground 
of  faith,  —  they  tend  to  confirm,  but  not  to  produce,  faith. 
Their  reality  he  is  compelled  to  admit,  but  why  they 
were  wrought  he  hardly  seemed  to  know,  and  is  willing  to 
leave  undetermined.  He  regards  man  as  naturally  adapted 
and  prone  to  religion ;  that  is,  there  are  phenomena  which 
can  only  be  ascribed  to  an  ultimate  law  of  his  being,  —  his 
tendency  to  faith  in  a  superior  intelligence  cannot  be  ex- 
plained as  the  result  of  reasoning.  It  is  the  result  of  our 
own  deep  consciousness.  We  transfer  the  agency  of  which 
we  are  conscious  in  our  own  minds  to  a  superior  mind. 
The  argument  from  design  may  be  of  use  after  this  feeling  is 
developed,  but  it  will  not,  in  the  first  instance,  establish  faith. 
Faith,  Scripture  faith,  is  the  affinity  between  the  soul  and 
the  Divine  Being,  —  the  acknowledgment  of  God  through 
the  force  of  our  instinctive  or  intuitive  sentiment.  A  mani- 
festation of  God  by  revelation  will  be  accredited  so  far  as 
it  corresponds  to  this  affinity  of  the  soul.  Hence,  if  I  am 
convinced  of  the  moral  manifestation  of  God  in  a  peculiar 
manner,  I  can  believe  in  a  miraculous  agency  exerted  in  con- 
nection, but  the  miracles  will  not  produce  the  faith.  Mr.  T. 
speaks,  as  I  love  to  hear  one,  of  tlie  spiritual  life,  and  of 


1836-1838.]  REST  IN  EUROPE.  175 

sympathy  with  the  character  of  Christ.  In  his  views  of  tlie 
foundation  of  the  spiritual  Ufe,  he  seems  to  me  to  accord  with 
George  Ripley.  He  admires  Germany  and  the  Germans,  and 
thinks  them  religious.  I  like  him  better  than  any  other 
minister  whom  I  have  met.  He  is  inquisitive,  but  candid, 
clear  and  pleasant,  about  thirty-seven  years  old,  a  delightful 
man  of  true  modesty.  We  bid  him  good-by,  after  a  day  of 
most  pleasant  intercourse,  which  I  shall  long  remember." 

W.  J.  Fox,  of  London,  the  Radical  minister,  is  thus 
described :  — 

"  Mr.  Fox  is  rather  short  and  thick-set,  has  nothing  profes- 
sional in  his  dress  or  manner,  but  a  face  which  prepossesses  by 
its  expression  of  calm  power.  When  we  entered,  the  organ 
and  choir  were  performing.  A  prayer  followed,  —  short  and, 
to  me,  novel,  more  a  declaration  respecting  God  as  the  object 
of  worship  and  source  of  blessing  than  an  address  to  Him, 
but  clothed  in  choice  language  and  uttered  with  reverence. 
A  hymn  was  sung ;  then  the  discourse  or  lecture,  —  wholly 
extemporaneously,  no  notes  even,  an  hour  in  length.  I  was 
more  than  satisfied,  he  went  beyond  my  expectations.  He 
was  fluent,  correct,  graceful,  and  often  rich  in  his  use  of 
language.  His  manner  easy,  and  with  a  continual  check 
whenever  he  found  himself  approaching  declamation.  No 
gesture  except  of  the  finger,  slightly  elevated  or  depressed. 
There  was  little  direct  use  of  the  imagination,  but  constant 
proof  that  it  w^^s  an  active  power  of  his  mind.  It  was  a 
philosophical  rather  than  a  poetical  performance,  showing 
acuteness  of  discrimination  and  depth  of  remark." 

He  heard  him  more  than  once,  —  sometimes  with  less 
pleasure  :  — 

"The  service  seemed  less  congenial  with  religious  worship. 
What  Fox  says  is  almost  always  sound,  —  you  ^nly  regret  its 
inappropriateness  to  place  and  time ;  still  his  mind  is  so  coni- 
preliensive  and  fertile,  his  remarks  spread  themselves  out  so 


176  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1836-1838. 

clearly  among  tlie  very  foundations  of  truth  and  duty,  and 
his  intellectual  power  is  so  manifest,  that  I  could  not  but 
listen  with  interest  and  profit." 

"  Mr.  Thom  called  and  went  with  us  to  Mr.  Blanco  White's, 
where  we  had  a  most  interesting  visit.  Mr.  White  is  rather 
short,  with  stiff  hair,  and  a  fiice  that  might  not  displease,  but 
would  not  prepossess.  He  has  been  confined  to  the  house  for 
months  by  a  loss  of  muscular  energy.  His  conversation  was 
clear  and  rich.  He  considers  the  prospects  of  Spain  most 
gloomy :  superstition  and  despotism  have  ruined  her.  The 
progress  of  society  is  very  slow,  and,  if  a  man  take  his  own 
observation  as  the  ground  of  judgment,  there  is  little  to  be 
hoped, — but  faith  in  Providence  justifies  hope  and  confidence 
for  the  future.  The  oppression  and  mischief  of  an  Establish- 
ment are  intolerable.  Christians  are  still  idolaters,  paying 
homage,  not  to  a  visible  object,  but  to  a  false  image  of  the  Deity 
which  they  have  erected  in  their  own  minds.  God  must  be 
known  within  us.  There  He  is,  —  in  the  conscience.  But 
the  most  instructive  part  of  Mr.  W.'s  conversation  was  his 
mention  of  himSelf  He  told  us  how  much  he  had  suffered 
from  the  Catholic  religion,  where  two  sisters  had  fallen  vic- 
tims to  the  severities  of  conventual  life :  and  then  remarked 
that,  in  looking  over  his  life,  he  was  not  able  to  jiut  his  finger 
on  a  single  circumstance  that  could  have  been  better  ordered 
for  him,  —  he  did  not  see  how  any  thing  could  have  been  better 
for  himself.     What  an  example  of  religious  faith  and  trust! " 

"Called  on  Miss  Harriet  Martineau,  in  her  little  parlor 
surrounded  by  her  comforts,  with  her  pile  of  American  books 
in  the  corner.  Her  own  book  is  half-written.  She  speaks 
of  it  as  an  easy  and  delightful  employment,  and  says  nothing 
has  yet  been  written  so  favorable  to  the  Americans  as  this 
work  will  be.  Furness's  book  she  is  delighted  with.  Carlyle 
says  F.  has  shown  Jesus  as  the  dove,  some  one  must  now 
present  him  as  the  eagle.  Carlyle's  book  on  the  French 
Revolution  will  be  pubUshed  ou  the  first  of  March.    Anti- 


1836-1838.]  REST  IN  EUROPE.  177 

slavery  is  said  to  be  flourishing  in  tbe  United  States.  IVIiss 
M.  full  of  hope." 

English  Unitarianism,  as  a  whole,  seemed  to  him  cold, 
unspiritual,  inactive,  not  co-operative  and  not  prosperous. 
The  general  opinion  as  collected  from  one  and  another 
was  that,  at  best,  it  was  only  holding  its  own,  save  per- 
haps in  Ireland,  where  it  might  be  gaining.  Sometimes 
tlie  word  was,  that,  although  Unitarianism  was  decreas- 
ing, liberal  religious  thought  was  spreading.  The  Sun- 
day services  appeared  to  lack  fervor.  Often  all  was 
read,  even  the  prayers,  and  the  feeling  prompted  little 
or  no  gesture.  But  great  care  was  given  to  the  com- 
position of  a  sermon.     "  Mr. writes  every  sermon 

wiiich  he  preaches  three  times."  He  heard  that  the 
York  tutors  discountenanced  fervor  and  extemporaneous 
speaking ;  and  thought  it  natural,  therefore,  to  hear 
also  that  young  men  from  Scotland  and  Ireland,  with 
little  or  no  theological  education,  were  preferred  by  the 
congregations  to  the  York  students,  and  that  poor  chil- 
dren brought  up  in  Unitarian  chapels  generally  deserted 
the  chapels  for  others  as  they  grew  up. 

Most  of  the  English  Unitarians  had  passed  from 
Arian  to  Humanitarian  views  of  Christ.  "  There  are 
only  three  or  four  Arian  societies  in  England,  and  little 
is  now  said  on  the  subject.  Controversy  is  less  preached 
than  formerly."  In  Ireland  thought  was  moving  in  the 
same  direction,  but  was  not  so  far  advanced :  the  major- 
ity were  Arian  still.  The  doctrine  of  regeneration  was 
just  appearing,  German  philosophy  was  winning  readers, 
and  discussion  was  turning  to  questions  of  revelation 
vermis  faith. 

"Mr.  said,   'There   are    two    tendencies   here,   one 

towards  high  views  of  the  Saviour's  offices,  and  one  towards 

12 


178  EZRA    STILES  GANNETT.         [1836-1838. 

rationalistic  views  of  inspiration  and  miracle.  The  young 
ministers  are  more  inclined  to  tlie  latter.'  —  The  remarks  at 
the  commencement  of  the  Communion  Service  were  upon 
the  deerree  of  doubt  that  must  minsrle  with  Christian  faith. 
Is  it  not  singular  that  the  ministers  should  say  so  much  about 
the  necessity  of  a  partial  confidence  in  Christianity  ?  The 
wine  was  poured  from  common  bottles,  —  a  little  thing,  but  it 
was  in  keeping  with  the  characteristics  given  to  the  service. 
—  The  word  'Christian'  I  think  was  never  introduced  into 
the  sermon,  'the  good  man'  was  used  in  preference:  the 
terms  'sin'  and  'sinful 'were  also  avoided." 

«  Mr. has  that  moderate  tone  of  religious  feeling  and 

Christian  energy  and  hope  which  distinguishes  the  English 
Unitarians,  and  is  partly  at  least  the  result  of  their  situation. 
For  theirs  is  a  difficult  as  well  as  unpleasant  position,  and 
one  that  exposes  them  to  unhappy  influences.  Despised  by 
the  Church  and  abhorred  by  the  Orthodox  Dissenters,  they 
feel  themselves  excluded  from  their  proper  place  in  society, 
while  their  dread  of  bigotry,  under  which  they  have  sufiered 
80  much,  and  their  dislike  of  the  extravagance  of  the  Evan- 
gelical party,  incline  them  towards  the  opposite  error  of  cold- 
ness and  sluggishness ;  and  their  observation  of  the  mischiefs 
wrought  by  an  excessive  regard  to  forms  in  the  Establish- 
ment leads  them  to  reject  or  distrust  the  use  even  of  profit- 
able services.  No  one  can  estimate  the  embarrassments  of 
their  situation  till  he  has  been  amonc:  them," 

To  the  ministers  themselves  he  grew  warmly  attached. 
To  Rev.  Lant  Carpenter,  one  of  his  kindest  hosts,  he 
writes :  — 

"I  had  not  imagined  that  I  should  feel  so  much  the  pain 
of  separation  as  it  is  now  realized  by  me.  The  tears  came 
involuntarily  to  my  eyes  to-day,  glad  as  I  was  to  be  on  my 
way  home,  when  I  was  mindful  of  the  truth  that  the  ocean 
would  soon  spread  its  whole  breadth,  a  space  that  I  should 
never  repass,  between  my  daily  Avalks  and  the  spots  con- 


1836-1838.]  REST  IN  EUROPE.  179 

nected  with  so  many  delightful  recollections.  Bristol,  you 
may  be  sure,  is  one  of  these  spots.  I  have  everywhere 
experienced  fraternal  kindness  at  the  hands  of  Unitarian 
ministers  in  Great  Britain.  Wherever  I  have  sought  their 
acquaintance,  whether  with  or  without  letter  of  introduction, 
—  and  I  have  availed  myself  of  every  opportunity  of  forming 
such  acquaintance,  —  I  have  been  cordially  welcomed,  and 
found  the  possession  of  a  common  faith  a  sufficient  title  to 
their  hospitality.  I  shall  rejoice  if  I  may  ever  return  a  part 
of  the  kindness  I  have  received." 

More  than  two  years  had  passed  by  since  the  sick 
man  left  that  abrupt  blank  in  the  "preaching-book." 
Now  he  was  able  to  send  home  as  herald  of  return  the 


"I  have  more  occasion  for  gratitude  than  words  can 
express.  My  health  is  perfectly  restored ;  and,  though  I  have 
not  the  strength  of  former  days,  I  am  anticipating  the  re- 
sumption of  my  professional  engagements  with  full  confi- 
dence in  my  physical  ability  to  discharge  them.  .  .  .  Never 
was  a  human  being  more  blessed  than  I  have  been.  Every 
circumstance  in  the  last  two  years  has  not  only  been,  but 
has  seemed  propitious.  Gratitude  and  duty  be  ours  for 
ever." 

A  very  glad  father  and  mother  took  passage  with 
their  little  child  in  the  "Great  Western,"  in  eTuly,  1838. 
The  voyage  of  fourteen  days  seemed  short  to  those  who 
were  making  only  the  third  voyage  by  steam  that  had 
ever  been  made  across  the  Atlantic.  A  day  or  two  in 
New  York,  —  one  little  journey  more,  —  and  then  "  our 
carriage  bore  us  to  Bumstead  Place,  where  we  were 
welcomed  amidst  smiles  and  tears." 

As  his  tribute  of  gratitude  to  friends,  some  of  whom 
are  still  living  to  receive  it,  shall  we  print  the  dedica- 


180  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1836-1838. 

tion  to  a  volume  which  he  planned  to  express  the  grati- 
tude ?  The  volume,  in  truth,  never  got  far  beyond  its 
title-page,  its  modest  preface,  and  the  table  of  contents ; 
but  the  heart's  intent  shall  be  preserved :  — 

To  the  Members  of  the  Federal  Street  Congregation^ 

Whose  kindness  proposed,  and  whose  generosity  enabled  me 
to  make,  the  visit,  in  which  I  gathered  the  materials  for 
this  volume,  and  for  whose  patience  and  liberaHty  towards 
me  I  desire  to  make  the  only  return  in  my  power,  that 
of  faithful  service  so  long  as  Providence  shall  permit, 
these  volumes  are  affectionately  inscribed. 


EMERSON. 


KIPLBY. 


VII. 

THE    TRANSCENDENTAL    MOVEMENT    IN 
NEW    ENGLAND. 

When  Mr.  Gannett  returned  to  "his  work  in  1838,  the 
Unitarian  world  at  home  wore  a  new  aspect.  Thus  far, 
no  one  had  been  more  eager  in  the  party  of  advance 
then  he:  henceforward  he  found  himself  in  the  party 
that  conserved.  We  must  explain  the  change  of  aspect 
to  do  justice  to  his  change  of  attitude. 

The  first  stage  of  the  Liberal  movement  showed  Cal- 
vinism giving  way  to  Arminianism.  In  the  second,  the 
Calvinism  vanished,  the  doctrines  of  the  Trinity  and 
Vicarious  Atonement  slowly  followed,  reason  grew 
bolder  and  bolder,  and  at  last  the  Liberals  became  Uni- 
tarians and  organized  themselves  as  a  new  sect.  They 
were  still  sincere  Bible  men :  Reason  and  Revelation 
were  their  equal  watchwords.  The  worth  of  the  Bible 
to  them,  it  is  true,  lay  largely  in  its  vagueness,  its  mul- 
tiplicity of  meaning,  the   room   they  thereby  got  for 


182  EZRA   STILES   GANXETT. 

tliiuking  far  and  freelj"  without  fear.  It  lay  mucli  more 
largely  in  this  vagueness  than  they  knew.  They  were 
conscious  and  were  very  proud  of  their  distinctive  prin- 
ciple,—  Free  Inquiry  in  matters  of  religion, — but  did 
not  see  whither  it  would  lead  them.  Now  the  hour 
was  near  that  was  to  show.  By  the  time  that  the 
Unitarian  controversy  was  fairly  over,  and  the  church- 
lireaks  had  ceased,  and  the  amended  Constitution  had 
brought  in  the  voluntary  system  of  church-support,  — 
Avhile  the  Unitarian  Association,  at  last  becoming  popu- 
lar, was  rapidl}-  increasing  its  membership  and  energy, 
and  just  as  the  younger  Ware  was  writing  to  his  fellow- 
believers  (1835),  "  Now  that  we  are  a  community  by 
ourselves,  it  behooves  us  to  consider  what  we  shall  do," 
—  even  then  the  Liberal  movement  was  passing  into  its 
third  stage.  The  little  band  of  allies,  that  for  twenty 
years  past  had  stood  side  by  side  in  a  common  cause, 
w^as  already  separating.  The  larger  and  elder  part  was 
in  its  turn  settling  down  on  the  ground  already  won 
and  made  dear  by  their  brave  struggle  for  it.  A  few — 
most  of  them  young  men  and  women —  with  a  look  of 
enthusiasm  in  their  faces,  had  begun  to  move  on,  seek- 
ing fresh  fields  of  thought.  Never  before  and  never 
since  has  the  brain  of  IMassachusetts  felt  such  stimulus 
as  it  received  durhig  the  next  few  years.  It  was  an 
age  of  wide  awakening,  of  general  quickening  in  mind 
and  conscience ;  but  in  early  and  intense  form  the  life- 
stir  seized  on  Boston  as  on  material  prepared  for  it. 
And,  of  all  who  felt  its  influence,  the  Unitarians  and 
their  ministers  were  the  thinkers  most  affected. 

Nor  was  this  strange.  If  one  should  seek  the  causes 
of  "  the  Transcendental  movement"  as  we  knew  it  here, 
the  early  Unitarian  rationalism  just  spoken  of  would, 
first  and  foremost,  meet  his  eye  with  the  burden  of  the 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.     183 

future  in  it.  The  characteristic  principle  of  Free  In- 
quiry in  religion,  of  Reason  in  Revelation,  was  sure 
to  carry  some  minds  beyond  "  the  Revelation."  The 
Orthodox  professors  were  true  prophets,  when  they 
said  that  Unitarianism  would  necessarily  result  in  Natu- 
ral Religion.  The  seeker  would  note  also  the  results 
to  which  this  principle  had  already  led  a  few  even  of 
the  elders,  some,  too,  who  were  acknowledged  teachers. 
It  is  hard  to  tell  how  many  of  our  fathers  were  Arians, 
or  of  Arian  type ;  how  many  were  Humanitarian. 
Stuart  said  to  Channing,  as  early  as  1819,  '*  The 
younger  men  are  nearly  all  outstripping  you."  Even 
Professor  Ware,  in  his  lectures  at  the  Divinity  School, 
was,  soon  after,  teaching  that  to  him  Christ  seemed  a 
man:  the  protesting  note-books  of  the  students  show  it. 
There  were  doubtless  several  like  him,  and  more  every 
year.  Probabl}^  few  who  were  over  forty  years  old  at 
the  time  of  the  disclosure  in  1815  died  other  than 
Arians.  Probably  there  were  few  under  forty  then, 
who  did  not  at  least  grow  doubtful,  if  not  certain,  the 
other  way. 

Channing  never  gave  up  belief  in  miracles,  and  per- 
haps never  said  distinctly  that  Christ  was  a  mere  man. 
While  some  of  his  later  friends  thus  read  his  thought, 
others,  Mr.  Gannett  among  them,  were  sure  that  he 
always  believed  in  Christ's  pre-existence.  At  all  events, 
he  never  liked  the  "  mere  "  way  of  putting  any  great- 
ness. What  is  called  ''  Channing  Unitarianism  "  rightly 
enough  includes  belief  in  a  supernatural  revelation  con- 
firmed by  miracle  and  in  a  Christ  of  superhuman  nature. 
But  that  belief  emphasized  by  itself  would  be  a  very 
superficial  measure  of  the  faith  that  Channing  held  and 
furthered.  His  mind  had  always  dwelt  above  the  sphere 
of  sectarian  logic  and  proof-texts,  and  his  influence  told 


184  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

strongly  for  the  new  advance.  He  lacked  the  method  of 
historic  criticism  which  gave  rise  to  the  negations  of  the 
Transcendentalists,  but  by  his  affirmations  he  might 
almost  be  counted  in  their  band.  For  Channing's  great- 
ness lay  in  his  noble  insistance  on  the  worth  of  human 
nature.  This  was  the  idea  which  has  made  him  a  star  in 
the  American  firmament.  It  is  his  own  word :  "-  My  one 
sublime  idea,  which  has  given  me  unity  of  mind,  —  the  ' 
greatness,  the  divinity  of  the  soul."  Hence  all  his  love 
of  liberty.  Hence  all  his  plans  for  social  regeneration. 
Hence  the  meanest  man  to  him  was  an  immortal,  and 
brought  thoughts  of  grandeur.  ''  All  minds  are  of 
one  family,"  he  said,  thinking  of  men  and  Christ  and 
God.  *'  Yes,  Christ,  though  so  far  above  us,  is  stil]  one 
of  us ;  is  only  an  illustration  of  the  capacity  which  we 
all  possess."  *'  The  minister  is  a  fellow- worker  with 
Christ  and  angels,"  was  a  favorite  thought.  '^  Each 
man  should  feel  the  greatness  of  his  own  spirit,  —  that 
it  is  so  great  as  to  justify  all  the  mighty  operations  of 
Christianity,  were  there  no  other  spirit  which  needed 
redemption."  "  The  noblest  use  of  travelling  is  to  dis- 
cern more  of  the  godlike  in  the  human."  ''  The  truths 
I  have  insisted  on  are  written  not  from  tradition,  but 
from  deep  conviction,  —  may  I  not  say  from  inspiration  f 
I  mean  nothing  miraculous.  Does  not  God  speak  in  us 
all  ?  "  And  he  scrupled  not  to  say  of  Reason  in  Reve- 
lation :  "  The  truth  is,  and  it  ought  not  to  be  denied, 
that  our  ultimate  reliance  is  and  must  be  on  our  own 
reason.  I  am  surer  that  my  rational  nature  is  from 
God  than  that  any  book  is  an  expression  of  his  will." 
These  were  the  characteristic,  not  the  exceptional,  em- 
phases in  all  the  latter  part  of  Channing's  life,  while  his 
interest  in  .the  mere  sect  ''Unitarianism"  was  waning^* 
and  his  influence  was  sinking  deep  and  spreading  far. 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.    185 

Who  can  doubt  the  "  flow  of  faith,"  or  wonder  from 
what  unknown  skies  Transcendentalism  lit  in  Boston 
brains  ?     It  climbed  there  from  the  soil. 

Not  but  that  alien  skies  sent  mighty  help.  The  new 
Idealism  of  Europe  was  beginning  to  be  read.  The 
spirits  of  Plato  and  Spinoza  had  arisen  from  the  tomb. 
Kant's  voice  had  called  them .  forth  by  accrediting  the 
human  mind  with  higher  structure  than  it  of  late  had 
claimed,  with  innate  forms  of  thought  transcending  all 
experience.  Soon  Schelling  followed,  founding  his  sys- 
tem on  a  faculty  of  intellectual  intuition  ''  that  gave 
immediate  knowledge  of  the  Absolute ; "  and  Jacobi,  tell- 
ing of  an  "  inward  sense  "  that  gazed  on  spiritual  realities. 
Then  Schleiermacher,  his  heart  inspired  by  the  light  and 
warmth  of  these  new  views,  strove  to  win  back  to  faith 
in  an  ennobled  Christianity  the  unbelieving  culture  of 
his  nation.  To  that  end  he  carefully  mapped  out  a 
broad  psychology  as  the  basis  of  religion :  he  found  in 
man  a  conscious  feeling  of  dependence  on  the  Infinite, 
besides  a  conscious  power  that  gave  room  for  free-will 
and  conscience;  while,  on  the  side  of  intellect,  he  found 
a  dii'ect  intuition  of  God  and  truth,  together  with  the 
reason  which  elaborates  to  full  conceptions  the  ideas 
thus  perceived.  Inspiration  he  pronounced  generic  to 
the  race ;  the  worth  of  miracles  as  its  evidence  was 
slighted  ;  the  Bible  unclothed  of  the  historic  garb  shone 
with  the  eternal  truths  that  lay  beneath ;  all  the  Chris- 
tian dogmas  were  enlarged  and  spiritualized,  and  religion 
became  the  vision  of  God  in  all  things,  and  all  things 
in  God. 

From  Germany  this  stirring  impulse  circled  far  and 
wide,  setting  in  activity  new  centres  of  "  Transcen- 
dental "  radiation.  The  one  thought  got  many  mimes. 
Cousin,  after  haunting  the  German  shrines  awhile,  went 


186  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

back  to  France  to  explain  what  he  called  the  "  imper- 
sonal reason  "  that  perceives  the  True,  the  Beautiful, 
the  Good,  in  absolute  essence.  In  England  two  men 
caught  the  secret,  and  startled  their  plain-thinking 
countrymen  with  strange  oracles,  —  Coleridge,  in  mystic 
soliloquies  about  the  "higher  reason,"  the  Logos  in 
man  by  which  we  share  in  things  eternal ;  and  Carlyle, 
who  thundered  forth  against  the  hollow  mechanisms  of 
society  the  gospel  of  irrevocable,  instamped,  spiritual 
laws. 

The  fame  of  other  writers,  too,  was  in  the  air :  Goethe 
and  Schiller,  still  unfamiliar  in  America;  De  Wette's 
Bible  criticism,  sufficiently  advanced,  but  more  exciting 
yet  the  book  which  Strauss  published  in  1835  ;  Constant 
and  Jouffroi ;  St.  Simon,  too,  and  Fourier.  There  were 
as  yet  few  German  students  here,  but,  through  transla- 
tions and  reviews  and  reprints,  strains  of  the  foreign 
thought  graduallj^  found  their  way  across  the  ocean 
into  the  New  England  studies;  and  the  deep,  broad- 
viewed,  intoxicating  words  came  like  wind  and  sunshine 
to  the  Transcendental  growth  already  sprouting  there. 
They  were  most  important  to  that  growth  ;  but,  by  fur- 
nishing ready-made  forms  of  thought  and  phraseology, 
and  even  of  social  life,  they  seemed  to  be  still  more 
important  to  it  than  they  were,  and  made  it  easy  for  the 
scorners  to  dub  it  "  German  infidelity  "  and  "  French 
atheism." 

Now  these  four  influences  (three  coming  through 
Unitarian  ism  itself,  its  early  principle  of  Free  Inquiry, 
the  growing  recognition  that  Christ  was  a  brother-man, 
and  Channing's  "  dignity  of  human  nature  ")  joined  to 
make  the  Unitarian  mind  diverge  within  itself.  Two 
tendencies  of  thought  were  manifest,  —  one  starting  as 
of  old  from  Locke's  philosophy,  the  other  representing 


TRANSCENDENTALISM   IN  NEW  ENGLAND.    187 

Kant's.  Two  schools  of  Bible  criticism  attached  them- 
selves respectively  to  these  contrasted  S3'stems.  One 
accepted  the  external  revelation,  although  nothing  in 
it  that  strained  Reason  overmuch.  The  other  scanned 
first  the  Old  Testament  and  then  the  New  with  grow- 
ing scepticism.  The  miracles  faded  from  the  pages  or 
seemed  to  blur  them.  Inconsistencies  and  immoralities 
multiplied  along  the  chapters.  Moses  could  not  have 
written  the  Pentateuch.  The  prophets  did  not  mean 
the  babe  of  Bethlehem.  Those  wondrous  deeds  of 
Jesus,  —  were  they  or  were  they  not  a  fact?  and  what 
followed,  if  they  were  not?  That  w^as  the  question 
which  the  Boston  ministers  were  pondering  and  the 
Boston  maidens  were  discussing  about  1840.  It  seemed 
as  if  Strauss  would  blow  out  the  whole  Gospel  in  puffing 
away  its  mj^ths. 

In  1836  it  was  still  too  early  to  read  aright  the  signs  of 
the  time.  Two  signs,  however,  were  before  men's  eyes. 
One  was  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson's  withdrawal  from  the 
Hanover  Street  pulpit,  because  he  could  no  longer  with 
sincerity  offer  the  Communion  Service.  Mr.  Gannett 
differed  widely  from  his  neighbor's  view  of  the  ordi- 
nance ;  but  so  admired  his  purity  and  integrity  that, 
when  an  Orthodox  magazine  misrepresented  the  frank 
avowal,  he  had  instantly  stepped  forward,  and  in  print 
pronounced  its  statement  ungenerous  and  false.  The 
other,  a  kindred  omen  of  discontent  with  the  Church, 
but  in  a  very  different  stratum  of  society  and  thought, 
was  the  rise  of  Abner  Kneeland's  company  of  Free- 
thinkers, and  his  newspaper,  the  "  Investigator."  —  Two 
3'ears  later,  when  our  traveller  returned,  the  staid  Uni- 
tarian circle  was  lively  with  excitement. 

For  people  had  by  that  time  read  a  thin  book  by  Mr. 
Emerson,  called  "  Nature,"  and  some  had  sat  half-mazed, 


188  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

half-raptured,  listening  to  his  lectures.  At  the  Harvard 
Divinity  School  he  had  just  given  the  startling  ''  Ad- 
dress :  "  the  old  demurred  and  knit  their  brows,  the 
young  were  thrilled  by  its  naked  beauty.  Here,  too, 
was  a  plea  for  Nature.  The  man  self- exiled  from  the 
pulpit  came  back  to  tell  the  pulpit-boys  what  wonders 
of  religion  lay  close  by  in  that  Nazareth,  the  Human 
Soul.  In  contrast  with  its  ever  fresh  divinity,  he  pointed 
to  the  Church  based  on  things  external  and  the  tradition 
of  another's  vision.  ''  The  essence  of  all  religion  is  the 
sentiment  of  virtue.  That  is  the  embalmer  of  the  world. 
The  silent  song  of  the  stars  is  in  it.  If  a  man  is  at  heart 
just,  then  in  so  far  is  he  God :  the  safety  of  God,  the 
immortality  of  God,  the  majesty  of  God,  do  enter  into 
that  man  with  justice.  Yet  miracles,  prophecy,  poetry, 
the  ideal  life,  the  holy  life,  —  they  exist  to-day  as  ancient 
history  merely.  ^len  have  come  to  speak  of  the  Revela- 
tion as  if  God  were  dead.  The  Christian  Church  pro- 
nounces Miracle  as  if  it  were  Monster,  not  one  with 
the  blowing  clover  and  the  falling  rain.  It  dwells  with 
noxious  exaggeration  about  the  person  of  Jesus,  till  this 
friend  of  man,  this  only  soul  in  history  who  has  appre- 
ciated the  worth  of  man,  is  made  the  injurer  of  man. 
The  Moral  Nature  lies  unexplored.  In  how  many 
churches,  by  how  many  prophets,  tell  me,  is  man  made 
sensible  that  he  is  an  infinite  Soul,  that  the  earth  and 
heavens  arc  passing  into  his  mind ;  that  he  is  drinking 
for  ever  the  soul  of  God  ?  "  The  remedy  for  all  these 
deformities  of  the  Church  is,  "  first.  Soul,  and  second. 
Soul,  and  evermore.  Soul."  "  I  look  for  the  Teacher 
that  shall  see  the  world  to  be  the  mirror  of  the  Soul ; 
shall  see  the  identity  of  the  law  of  gravitation  with 
purity  of  heart ;  and  shall  show  that  the  Ought,  that 
Duty,  is  one  thing  with  Science,  with  Beauty,  and  with 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.    189 

Jo}^" —  It  seemed  like  an  echo  of  Channing's  thought 
attuned  to  a  vaster  rhythm,  —  the  music  of  the  spheres. 
Evidently  this  teacher  was  himself  no  common  seer. 
But  he  was  not  alone.  George  Ripley,  another  Uni- 
tarian minister,  not  yet  withdrawn  from  pulpit-work, 
was  bus}^  with  a  few  friends,  translating  for  New  Eng- 
land readers  the  fresh  foreign  thought.  In  a  short  time 
a  dozen  works  appeared  in  Boston  libraries,  —  as  if  some 
Cortes-band  from  the  New  World,  discovering  in  the  Old 
World  an  El  Dorado  of  the  mind,  had  come  back  with 
spoil.  Dr.  Channing  used  to  meet  some  "  Friends  of 
Progress,"  and  discuss  with  them  the  theological  and 
social  problems  of  the  day.  There  was  a  "  Transcen- 
dental Club,"  of  which  Dr.  Francis  was  first  president, 
and  its  pilgrim-members  met  on  the  road  to  Concord. 
Margaret  Fuller  presided  at  "  Conversations."  Certain 
drawing-rooms  became  holy  places,  where  rapt  ones 
chatted  in  oracles  and  watched  for  intuitions.  Alcott's 
school  had  already  unfolded  strange  wealth  of  spirit-lore 
in  children's  minds.  Dr.  Follen  lectured  on  Pantheism 
and  Infidelity ;  Dr.  Walker  on  Philosophy,  and  taught 
an  unfamiliar  doctrine.  Mr.  Farness's  first  book  was 
out,  picturing  with  reverent  touch  a  Jesus  of  the  new 
faith.  Orestes  Brownson  set  up  a  Quarterly  on  purpose 
to  teach  ''  New  Views ; "  and  soon,  in  the  hands  of 
Margaret  Fuller,  Riple}^  and  Emerson,  the  "  Dial,"  lit 
by  "  the  light  that  never  was  on  sea  or  land,"  began  to 
tell  the  hours  of  eternity.  Some  countrj^-folk  and  fisher- 
liiiin,  who  never  had  sat  in  drawing-rooms,  gathered  in 
convention,  and  showed  that  they  too,  Come-outers  from 
all  churches,  knew  the  secrets  of  the  Soul ;  among  them, 
"  rough-looking  men,  whose  countenances  were  full  of 
the  divine."  Their  city  brethren  next,  unruly  Radicals  of 
every  fibre,  fine  and  coarse,  passed  sharp  criticism  on  all 


190  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

the  established  institutions  of  religion.  The  Philanthro- 
pies, moreover,  were  astir  :  the  Temperance  movement, 
of  which  Pierpont  was  to  be  the  pulpit-martyr:  the 
Anti-Slavery  movement,  which  had  already  entered  on 
its  martyr  era ;  and  the  Education  movement,  with 
Horace  Mann  for  chief.  The  plea  for  Woman's  Rights  be- 
gan, and  the  Non-Resistants  held  convention.  Combe's 
work  was  circulating ;  phrenology,  mesmerism,  homce- 
opathy,  hydropathy,  were  themes  of  eager  talk  and 
experiment,  besides  a  brood  of  smaller  unnamed  Isms^  — • 
agitations  against  the  use  of  flesh  for  food,  of  yeast  in  mak- 
ing bread,  of  animal  manures  in  agriculture,  and  so  on. 
Presently  a  cultured  company  of  Socialists  took  counsel 
together  to  make  real  their  dream.  In  the  true  society 
seeming  opposites  would  be  perfectly  reconciled,  —  the 
rights  of  labor  and  the  convenience  of  property,  fineness 
of  brain  and  hardness  of  hands,  individuality  and  close 
co-operation :  but  why  should  not  the  marriage  begin  in 
1841  ?  In  all  glad  hope  the  banns  were  published,  and 
the  home  was  formed,  and  the  world's  people  gazed 
with  smiles  on  the  wondrous  family  in  West  Roxbury,  to 
see  what  poets  and  Plato's  kindred  knew  about  farm- 
ing. This  also  was  George  Ripley's  project.  Proud  now 
are  the  gray -haired  men  and  matrons  scattered  through 
the  States  who  say,  "  We,  too,  were  at  Brook  Farm !  " 
Nor  were  Brook  Farm  and  its  fate  unique.  It  was  only 
one  of  several  similar  experiments  at  this  time  tried  in 
Massachusetts. 

Of  course,  tumult  such  as  this  could  not  occur  with- 
out reaction  and  remonstrance.  To  say  nothing  of 
issues  practical,  it  at  least  seemed  plain  that,  among 
the  issues  speculative,  belief  in  Christianity  as  a  special 
revelation,  and  even  the  belief  in  God,  were  in  danger. 
Abner  Kneeland's  name  will  live  as  that  of  the  last  man 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.    191 

imprisoned  for  blasphemy  in  Massachusetts:  he  had 
said  in  his  newspaper  that  God  was  nothing  but  a 
chimera  of  the  imagination.  He  barely  saved  the  fame, 
however ;  for  Professor  Noyes,  of  the  Harvard  Divinity 
School,  had  proved  that  the  Old  Testament  prophecies 
did  not  refer  to  Christ,  and  was  threatened  with  prose- 
cution for  the  news.  This  was  not  Unitarian  procedure  ; 
but  the  Unitarians  were,  perhaps,  even  more  troubled 
than  the  Orthodox.  Were  not  these  Transcendental 
vagaries,  these  Infidel  enormities,  'the  consequence  of 
their  own  principle  of  Free  Inquiry  in  religion  ?  Henry 
Ware  the  son  was  now  engaged  in  training  the  young 
ministers  ;  and,  as  antidote  to  Emerson's  address  to  them, 
—  once  Emerson  had  been  ordained  his  colleague,  —  he 
preached  and  printed  a  sermon  on  the  personality  of 
God.  As  antidote  ;  but  there  was  no  arguing  with 
Emerson :  ''  I  could  not  possibly  give  you  one  of  the 
'  arguments '  you  cruelly  hint  at,  on  which  any  doctrine 
of  mine  stands.  For  I  do  not  know  wdiat  arguments 
mean  in  reference  to  any  expression  of  a  thought.  I 
delight  in  telling  what  I  think ;  but,  if  you  ask  me  how  I 
dare  say  so,  or  why  it  is  so,  I  am  the  most  helpless  of  mor- 
tal men.  "  So  answered  our  Transcendentalist.  Next 
year  the  learned  Norton,  the  veteran  of  the  former 
advance,  roused  himself  against  this  new  departure. 
Twice  already  had  he  warned.  Now  he  formally  in- 
dicted it  before  the  assembled  Alumni  of  the  School  as 
the  '^  latest  form  of  Infidelity."  The  German  philoso- 
phers were  pronounced  Atheists  and  Pantheists,  sense- 
less mystics  ;  and  the  home-bred  Transcendentalists  of 
New  England  were  disciples  of  their  folly.  At  this  a 
pamphlet-debate  sprang  up  ;  for  George  Ripley,  who 
coitZ(i  argue,  published  Letters  to  defend  Spinoza,  Schleier- 
macher,  and  De  Wette  from  the  charges,  and  rebuke 


192  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

the  exclusiveness  that  would  set  up  among  Unitarians 
a  standard  of  essentials  for  the  Christian  name,  and  thus 
abandon  the  very  ground  of  their  existence  as  a  body. 

The  Boston  ministers,  also,  were  discussing  whether 
Emerson  were  a  ''  Christian,"  and  whether  difference  of 
opinion  about  the  value  of  miracles  ought  to  sunder  fel- 
lowship. On  miracles  the  question  turned,  they  being 
commonly  regarded,  as  by  Norton,  the  specific  and  only 
sure  credential  of  a  revelation.  And  some,  with  puzzled 
brows,  kept  asking,  "  What  is  an  '  Intuition  '  ?  What 
is  this  'Higher  Reason'?  Have  you  a  faculty  wdiich 
we  have  not  ?  Verify  your  sky-born  visions."  The  soul 
could  not  be  exactly  controverted, —  Over-Soul  or  soul 
within ;  and  yet  it  could  not  babble  very  plainly  in  its 
own  defence.  Not  that  it  was  unwilling  to  speak.  There 
seem  to  have  been  a  few  silent  brethren,  radical  in  the 
study,  conservative  in  the  pulpit ;  but  thought  had 
ripened  so  very  quickly  this  time  that  it  is  easy  to  ac- 
credit their  hesitation  to  still  lingering  doubts.  It  marks 
the  really  great  advance  that  free  tliought  had  made 
within  the  generation,  that,  at  least,  the  apostles  of  the 
new  heresy  were  at  once  perfectly  outspoken.  The 
word  came  out  as  soon  as  the  thought  went  in,  — 
sometimes  before,  and  made  men  wonder  wdiat  the 
would-be  sky-born  might  portend.  This  gave  the  men 
of  miracles  and  logic  laughter,  —  or  it  would  have  given 
laughter,  had  they  not  been  so  earnest  in  their  own 
reverence  that  the  whole  tendency  gave  them  fear.  Of 
the  men  mentioned  above  as  contributing,  in  one  way 
or  another,  to  the  movement,  —  though  not  all  would 
by  any  means  have  been  numbered  with  the  Transcen- 
dentalists,  —  Emerson,  Ripley,  Francis,  Follen,  TValker, 
Furness,  Brownson,  Pierpont,  Noyes,  were,  or  had  been, 
Unitarian  ministers.     Many  bright  young  thinkers   in 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.     193 

pulpit  and  in  pew,  readers  and  non-readers,  both  men 
and  women,  accepted  impulses  from  the  strange  thought 
where  they  could  not  greet  it  heartily.  But,  as  a  de- 
nomination, the  Unitarians  said  mostly.  No,  —  an  im- 
patient, superior  No. 

Channing,  as  has  been  said,  was  not  of  the  heretics, 
yet  he  was  much  disappointed  with  his  brethren  ;  and 
this  should  be  remembered  when  people  speak  of  ''  Chan- 
ning Unitarianism."     Emerson's  remedy  for  the  Church 

—  ''first,  Soul,  and  second.  Soul,  and  evermore.  Soul" 

—  recalls  Channing's  "one  sublime  idea,  the  divinity 
of  the  soul."     Ripley  called  himself  "  the  child  of  Dr. 
Channing."     Parker  wrote  to  a  friend  in  1839 :    "  It 
is  evident  there  are  now  two  parties  among  the  Uni- 
tarians :    one    is    for   progress ;   the   other   says,    '  Our 
strength  is  to  stand  still.'      Dr.  Channing  is  the  real 
head  of  the  first  party,  the  other  has  no  head."     His 
life  just  covered  the  early  phase  of  the  new  growth,  and 
in  the  last  two  or  three  years  he  often  wrote  :  "  I  am 
little  of  a  Unitarian,"  none  at  all  as  a  sectarian.     "  The 
Unitarian  body  seems  to  be  forsaking  its  first  love,  its 
liberality,  its  respect  for  the  lights  of  individual  judg- 
ment, its  separation  of  the  essential  from  the  unessen- 
tial in  Christianity.     I  have  felt  for  years  that  it  must 
undergo  important  developments.    It  began  as  a  protest 
against  the  rejection  of  reason.      It  pledged  itself  to 
progress  as  its  life  and  end ;  but  it  has  gradually  grown 
stationary,  and  now  we  have  a  Unitarian  Orthodoxy." 
*'  Perhaps,"  he  added,  "  this  is  not  to  be  wondered  at 
or  deplored  ;  for  all  reforming  bodies  seem  doomed  to 
stop,   in   order  to  keep   the   ground   which  they  have 
gained.     They  become  conservative ;  and  out  of  them 

'   must  spring  new  reformers,  to  be  persecuted  generally 

by  the  old." 

13 


194  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

It  was  a  kind  of  prophecy.  Emerson,  Ripley,  had 
spoken.  Soon  another  bold,  strong  voig^  was  heard. 
Theodore  Parker,  known  as  a  young  and  breezy  coun- 
try-parson and  many-tongue d  devour er  of  books,  had 
already  been  forfeiting  his  exchanges,  because  he  read 
those  Germans,  while  there  was  a  taint  of  heresy  in  what 
he  wrote.  In  1841  ho  preached  at  a  South  Boston 
ordination  a  sermon  on  '*  The  Transient  and  the  Perma- 
nent in  Christianity."  Among  things  transient  were 
the  Christian  rites  and  doctrines;  among  such  doctrines, 
the  belief  that  the  two  Testaments  contained  a  special 
revelation,  and  that  Christ's  nature  and  offices  were 
unique  in  history.  The  ordaining  brethren  sat  by  with 
small  if  any  protest.  It  was  offensive  bluntness;  but 
no  one  knew  that  any  thing  momentous  had  occurred, 
until  some  Ortliodox  listeners  who  were  present  sud- 
denly demanded  in  public.  Did  those  other  brethren 
endorse  this  as  Unitarianism  ?  Then  came  recoil  fast 
and  far.  And  this  was  really  not  the  Unitarianism 
which  had  so  hardly  won  its  place  among  the  Christian 
sects.  It  grieved  the  okl  defenders  much  to  have  to 
bear  the  scandal  of  its  shelter.  Parker's  sermon  made 
an  epoch  somewhat  like  Channing's  Baltimore  sermon, 
twenty-two  years  before.  Not  that  the  thought  was 
novel,  though  it  seklom  rushed  in  such  clear  swift 
words  as  these ;  but  the  occasion  and  the  hour  gave 
effect.  It  was  no  quiet  Sunday  discourse  in  a  little  vil- 
lage meeting-house,  but  the  public  ordination  sermon  of 
a  Unitarian  minister,  and  delivered  at  a  moment  when 
it  revealed  the  half-formed  thoughts  of  many  hearts, 
the  half-formed  fears  of  many  others.  The  usual  fate 
awaited  the  revealer.  Parker  became  a  sign  spoken 
against  in  churches  and  in  newspapers,  —  "  The  Infidel ! 
Blasphemer  !  Atheist !  " 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.    195 

He  stood  his  ground,  having  felt  alrccady  dimly  con- 
scious that  he  was  sent  to  stand  this  ground.  That 
autumn  he  gave  lectures  in  the  city  to  unfold  his  views, 
while  the  '^ Boston  Association  of  Ministers"  in  meeting 
after  meeting  discussed  the  case.  Could  they  exchange 
with  him?  they  asked  each  other.  Most  of  them 
thouoht  not.  Were  there  not  limits  to  a  minister's  lib- 
erty  of  expressing  opinions  in  the  pulpit  ?  That  was  a 
question  that  had  much  significance  for  some  of  them. 
Parker  had  a  cliurch-right  membership  in  their  brother- 
hood ;  and  besides"  that,  by  their  principle  of  Free 
Inquiry,  they  could  not  bid  him  go.  Should  they  not 
go  themselves,  however,  —  dissolve  the  fellowship  ?  The 
plan  was  very  seriously  mooted,  for  the  whole  body 
was  held  responsible  by  a  hostile  public  for  all  vagaries 
covered  by  its  name.  A  kind  of  revival  was  going  on 
at  this  time  in  their  parishes,  —  another  expression  of 
the  general  ferment.  It  was  a  year  of  unsettling  in  the 
churches.  The  ministers  and  laymen  held  meetings, 
that  they  might  confer  together  on  religious  themes ; 
and  there,  too,  the  subject  came  uppermost,  mingling  in 
much  earnest  talk  about  the  relations  of  Unitarian  pas- 
tors to  their  people.  In  this  same  year,  1841,  Ripley 
resigned  his  pulpit  to  take  Brook  Farm ;  Pierpont  was 
cited,  by  malcontents  of  his  flock,  before  an  ecclesias- 
tical council ;  and  James  Freeman  Clarke  began  to 
gather  his  ''  free  church." 

Parker's  lectures  soon  appeiired  in  print,  the  "  Dis- 
course of  Matters  pertaining  to  Religion."  Here  at  last 
was  Transcendentalism  cleared  up  ;  plain  in  its  denials, 
plain  in  affirmations  ;  the  vision  caught  and  fixed  as  a 
theology,  with  much  show  of  learning,  and  with  many 
a  psalm  singing  through  the  statement.  When  thus 
reduced,  it  proved  to  be  simple  and  easy  enough  to 


196  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

understand ;  not  new  in  the  main,  rather  shallow  and  one- 
sided in  its  psychology,  —  but  right-sided  for  that  time, 
—  searching  as  a  criticism  of  the  current  theologies, 
and,  above  all,  mighty  and  fervent  in  its  affirmation 
of  one  grand  truth.  The  religious  element  Parker 
declared  to  be  the  strongest,  deepest  element  in  human 
nature,  manifesting  itself  first  in  a  dim  sense  of  some- 
thing unbounded  and  of  our  dependence  thereon,  then 
in  Reason's  direct  intuitions  of  God,  Immortality,  and 
Duty, — primal  instincts,  facts  not  of  demonstration,  but 
of  consciousness.  He  significantly  called  his  system 
"  Spiritualism,"  or  "  the  Natural  Religious  View,"  as 
distinguished  from  "  Rationalistic  Naturalism,"  founded 
on  tlie  philosophy  of  sensation  and  experience,  which 
viewed  God  as  separate  from  man  and  nature,  and 
tried  to  reach  him  by  unsufficing  "  arguments  ;  "  as 
distinguished  also  from  the  "  Anti-Rationalistic  Super- 
naturalism,"  founded  on  the  same  philosophy,  but 
which  viewed  God  as  bridging  the  great  gulf  between 
himself  and  man  by  miracle  and  mediation. 

Parker's  "  Spiritualism  "  affirmed,  as  the  grand  truth 
of  religion,  the  immanence  of  an  infinitely  perfect  God 
in  matter  and  mind.,  and  His  constant  activity  in  both 
spheres.  The  laws  of  nature  are  but  His  modes  of 
action,  phenomena  His  manifestations.  Providence 
everywhere  and  always  provides  for  every  natural 
want  its  natural  supply.  Inspiration  corresponds  to 
the  souFs  want.  "  As  God  fills  all  space,  so  all  sjMrit," 
insi)iring  men  "  by  means  of  a  law,  certain,  regular, 
and  universal  as  the  laws  of  gravitation."  ''  Inspira- 
tion is  the  income  of  God  to  the  soul,  in  the  form  of 
Truth  through  the  reason,  of  Right  through  the  con- 
science, of  Love  and  Faith  through  the  affections  and 
religious  element.     Like  vision,  it  must  be  everywhere 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.    197 

the  same   thing  in  kind,  however  it  differs  in  degree 
from   race   to  race,   from  man  to  man,"   accordmg  to 
endowment   and   obedience.      -All   actual   religion  is 
reyealed  in  us,  or  it  could  not  be  felt;    all  revealed 
rehcrion  is  natural,  or  it  would  be  of  no  use."     -  Re- 
lio-ion  is  one,  theologies  are  many."     "  Rehgion  is  the 
universal  term,  Christianity  a  particular  form  under  this 
universal  term."    Yet  true  Christianity,  the  pure  essence 
of  what  Jesus  taught,  divested  of  the  gross  errors  of  the 
Churches  and  the  slic^^ht  errors  of  the  Teacher  himself,  he 
identified  with  Absolute  Religion,  — -  the   Christianity 
of  Christ,  the  one  only  religion,  everlasting,  ever  blest." 
Jesus  was  ^  the  profoundest  religious  genius  God  has 
raised  up,  whose  words  and  works  help  us  to  form  and 
develop  the  idea  of  a  complete  religious  man."    Miracle 
as  transcending  law  was  self-contradiction  ;  as  itself  in- 
stance of  transcendent  law,  wholly  possible,  but  hard 
to  authenticate  in  history.     The  Bible  was  -  the  great- 
est of  books,"   the   Church   -the  greatest  of  Human 
Institutions  ; "  but  taken  at  the  popular  estimate  they 
were  idols  too,  and  as  idols  received  his  scathing  criti- 
cism.  —  Such  were  Parker's  emphases,  recalling  closely 
those  of  Schleiermacher. 

Viewed  as  a  school  of  philosophy,  the  Transcendent- 
alists  were  simply  the  little  New  England  quota  in  the 
great  return  of  thinkers  to  Ideahsm,  after  the  long 
captivity  to  Sensationalism.  Returns  almost  inevitably 
have  the  exaggeration  and  one-sidedness  of  reaction. 
The  new  king  usurps  entire  allegiance,  whereas  allegi- 
ance seems  due  to  one  who  rules  at  once  both  king- 
doms. Intuition  and  Experience.  As  a  school  of  critics, 
they  were  the  earliest  here  who  boldly  used  the  modern 
historic  method  in  the  study  of  the  Bible.  As  a  school 
of  theology,  they  dispensed  with  Mediation,  in  order  to 


198  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

claim  for  the  soul  access  direct  to  its  Father.  Tliey 
have  been  credited  with  bringing  the  doctrine  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  into  the  Unitarian  "common  sense  in  re- 
lioion."  But  more  than  the  common  doctrine  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  more  than  Orthodoxy  compassed  by 
its  faith  in  Incarnation  and  the  Helping  Grace,  their 
thought  really  implied.  It  implied  a  universal  Imv  of 
access  and  communion.  It  affirmed  abiding  contact  of 
the  finite  and  the  Infinite  in  virtue  of  the  very  nature 
of  the  soul  and  Over-Soul.  Inspiration  fresh  as  well 
as  old;  Revelation  constant;  Miracle  but  the  human 
spirit's  pinnacle  of  action  ;  God  the  living  God,  not  a 
deity  then  and  there  announcing  himself  with  evidence 
of  authenticity,  but  indwelling  here  and  now  in  every 
presence,  —  this  was  "  Transcendentalism." 

His  brethren  presently  invited  Mr.  Parker  to  a  con- 
ference where  the  point  at  issue  became  very  distinct. 
"  The  difference  between  Trinitarianism  and  Unitarian- 
ism  is  a  difference  in  Christianity,"  it  was  said :  "  the 
difference  between  Mr.  Parker  and  the  Association  is 
a  difi'erence  between  no  Christianity  and  Christianity." 
To  him  "  Christianity "  meant  Natural  Religion :  to 
them  it  meant  Natural  Religion  plus  Christ's  specific 
revelation  and  authority  plus  miracles.  Could  these 
additions  be  denied,  and  "  Christian  "  fellowship  main- 
tained ?  They  doubted.  These  at  least  seemed  to  be 
part  of  the  "  fundamentals,"  to  use  the  old  term.  In 
view  of  the  difference,  would  not  Mr.  Parker  withdraw 
from  the  Association,  and  save  it  from  his  compromising 
presence  ?  "  Not  while  the  world  standeth  !  "  They 
might  vote  him  out,  and  he  would  not  complain  ;  but 
they  liad  identified  him  in  a  measure  with  freedom  in 
religion,  with  rights  of  conscience,  and  therefore  it  was 
his  duty  to  remain,  he  said.     So  remain  he  did,  for 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.     199 

neither  would   they  banish;    but   his    exchanges   now 
were  narrowed  down  to  three  or  four. 

The  persistent  brother  went  to  Europe  for  a  while, 
and  there   was   peace.      Two   years  passed.     Then   it 
came   his    turn   once    more    to    give    the    "Thursday 
Lecture."     The  little  handful  of  the  faithful  usually  iu 
attendance  on  such  occasions  suddenly  became  a  throng 
that  filled  the  meeting-house.     They  heard  a  glowing 
tribute  to  the  greatness  of  Jesus,  but  a  clearer  denial 
of  that  which  made   him  "the    Christ"   than  "First 
Church  "  had  ever  heard  before.     "  Or  ever  should  again 
at  Thursday  Lecture,"  said  the  Boston  Association,  con- 
sulting  with  the   pastor.      They  remembered  that   in 
primitive  times   the    Lecture   had  belonged  to  "  First 
Church"  only.     What  simpler  than  for  the  ministers, 
who  had  long  been  wont  to  serve  the  Lecture  in  regu- 
lar rotation,  to  surrender  its  control  to  its  ancient  man- 
ager, the  pastor,  — he  to  invite  whom  he  would  to  give 
ih     The  act  was  understood.     They  thus  before  the 
public  freed  themselves  in  a  degree  from  Parker,  with- 
out   official    excommunication    and    without    defining 
"Christianity."      The    ministers-at-large   employed  by 
the  "  Benevolent  Fraternity  of  Churches  "  had  already 
been  requested  by  its  directors  to  withhold  exchange 
from  him.     One   of  the  number,  John   T.  Sargent,  as 
conscientious  as  themselves,  preferred  to  yield  them  up 
their  pulpit  rather  than  his  liberality.     James  Freeman 
Clarke's  young  "  free  church  "  lost  some  of  its  best  men 
and  women  for  similar  independence  on  his  part.     Those 
who  did  not  then  deny  the  heretic  to-day  are  "  named 
and  known  by  that  hour's  feat."     Mr.  Parker  accepted 
the  situation  by  publicly  serving  a  catechism  on  the 
Association,  and  begging  it  to  answer  and  tell  the  world 
what   Unitarian    Orthodoxy   was.      Meanwhile   a  few 


200  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

friends  had  resolved  -'  that  Mr.  Parker  have  a  chance  to 
1)6  heard  in  Boston."  The  chance  was  made.  For  nearly 
fifteen  years  he  was  heard  there,  and  his  word  went 
forth  in  books  freeing  and  freshening  multitudes,  until 
the  new  tliought  grew  familiar,  and  the  name  ''  Tran- 
scendental "  was  forgotten,  and  the  old  issues  broadened 
into  larger  ones,  and  the  little  Boston  eddy  was  lost 
in  the  current  of  the  ag^e.  The  Unitarians  who  refused 
his  presence  felt  his  influence.  As  they  went  forvA^ard 
in  this,  the  third,  stage  of  their  history,  they  found  his 
footsteps  where  they  passed,  and  many  of  them  came  to 
feel  that  he  had  been  their  rough-mannered  pioneer  and 
broken  paths  for  them. 

Again,  as  thirty  years  before  at  the  crisis  of  the 
second  stage,  the  question  rises.  Was  this  rejection  of 
fellowship  right  or  wrong  ? 

It  is  true  the  Unitarians  were  doing  somewhat  as  the 
Orthodox  had  done  to  them  against  their  protest ;  for, 
although  the  heretic  had  not  been  formally  excluded 
from  Unitarianism,  he  had  been  effectually  disowned  by 
Unitarians,  and  on  the  score  of  opinions.  True,  it  was 
a  limitation  of  their  cherished  principle  of  Free  Inquiry, 
of  their  old  objection  to  creeds,  of  their  constant  stress 
that  character  rather  than  belief  gave  title  to  the  Chris- 
tian name  :  all  this  is  true.  But  then  they  had  always 
sincerely  meant  that  limitation,  without  believing  it  to 
be  a  limitation.  The  men  of  1825  really  founded  their 
Association  not  on  one,  but  on  two  bases :  (1)  the  method, 
—  Free  Inquiry  in  Religion;  and  (2)  the  belief  in  a 
supernatural  revelation,  to  which  the  method  led  them. 
At  that  time  the  former  of  the  two  received  the  em- 
phasis, because  therein,  with  reference  to  neighbor  sects, 
lay  their  chief  reason  for  existence ;  but  they  were 
associated  by  their  Constitution  to  uphold  and  further 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.      201 

"Unitarian  Christianity,"  and  each  and  all  of  them, 
however  else  they  might  have  defined  "  Unitarian  Chris- 
tianity," would  have  insisted  that  it  was  a  system  of 
revealed  religion  in  the  usual  meaning  of  that  term. 
In  all  sorts  of  ways,  in  lectures,  sermons,  prayers,  in 
elaborate  statements  of  their  views,  in  pointed  replies  to 
Orthodox  insinuations,  they  over  and  over  reasserted 
this  to  be  their  faith.  They  certainly  did  not  intend  to 
associate  themselves  with  Deists  or  with  Theists.  They 
did  not  in  set  phrase  exclude,  because  no  one  ever 
thought  of  including,  such  men.  Their  two  bases  ap- 
peared to  them  as  one.  They  deemed  Unitarianism 
identical  with  Reason-in-Religion,  because  they  believed 
that  reason  established  past  all  doubt  the  revelation. 
And  for  some  fifteen  years  the  two  continued  to  appear 
as  one.  Then  came  a  man,  who,  following  out  their 
method,  had  been  gradually  led  by  it  to  give  up  their 
belief;  and  still  he  claimed  to  be  like  them,  Chris- 
tian and  Unitarian.  For  the  first  time  the  fact  of 
duality  was  forced  upon  their  consciousness  with  the 
question.  Which  of  the  two,  the  method  or  the  belief, 
was  the  fundamental? 

Neither  party  faced  the  question  squarely.  Parker 
distinctly  maintained  the  method  ;  but  he  also  tried  to  re- 
tain the  names  he  loved,  "  Christian  "  and  "  Unitarian," 
by  ignoring  the  belief  and  thus  changing  the  meanings 
of  those  names.  1  L?y  who  rejected  him  as  distinctly 
maintained  the  second  ;  while  by  refusing  to  state  this 
behef  as  the  creed  of  their  denomination,  or  to  pass 
formal  excommunication,  they  also  tried,  in  turn,  to 
be  loyal  to  the  principle  they  loved. 

Was  it  possible  for  Parker's  brethren  to  have  accepted 
off-hand  the  new  meanings,  —  on  the  moment  to  have 
shorn  away  the  supernatural  Messianic  significance  that 


202  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

''  Christianity  "  had  always  borne  to  the  world  and  to 
themselves,  brought  all  down  to  the  simple  moral  essence 
of  the  Gospel,  and,  calling  this  at  once  Christianity  and 
Absolute  Religion  as  he  did,  have  thus  unified  the  two 
bases  and  avoided  the  difficulty?  Such  changes  in 
meaning  grow,  they  cannot  be  made  in  a  twinkling  or  a 
year.  That  reconciliation  might  be  sincerely  effected 
—  sincerely,  that  is,  if  openly  avowed  —  by  men  thirty 
years  later  than  they  in  reading  and  in  thought,  men 
like  their  children  of  to-day,  or  like  Parker  himself,  as 
compared  with  most  of  them,  in  their  own  day  ;  but  not 
by  them.  It  was  no  shibboleth-difference,  —  they  were 
still  on  intellectual  ground.  There  was  a  real  conflict 
of  ideas  under  the  names,  and  they  could  not  have 
said  "  Christian "  with  Parker  or  to  him,  and  been 
honest. 

Therefore  they  did  right  to  disclaim  his  fellowship. 
Their  mistake  lay  in  thinking  that  men  can  associate 
on  the  method  of  Free  Inquiry  in  religion  and  on  some 
belief  to  which  inquiry  conducts  them,  —  on  both  to- 
gether, the  one  in  its  fulness,  the  other  in  its  finality. 
A  mistake  it  would  seem,  because  the  first  is  illimitable, 
while  the  other  is  professedly  its  limit.  It  is  natural, 
inevitable,  that  beliefs,  i.e.  the  results  of  truth-seek- 
ing, should  contradistinguish  and  give  names ;  but, 
as  inevitably.  Free  Inquiry  stays  by  no  beliefs  and  of 
course  by  no  names,  as  final,  until  the  perfect  truth 
be  reached,  —  which  who  shall  formulate  ?  That  prin- 
ciple, that  method  taken  by  itself  furnishes  no  basis  for  a 
religious  association  of  the  common  kind  ;  but  it  suggests 
a  new  kind  of  religious  association,  a  wide  brotherhood, 
hardly  to  be  understood  at  first  by  men  used  only  to 
sects  based  on  the  beliefs. 

Whether  Parker,  on  the  other  hand,  decided  well  or 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND.     203 

ill,  no  "  Broad-Churcliman "  ought  to  blame  him  save 
for  violence.  The  Broad-Churchman  is  found  in  all 
denominations ;  and  everywhere  his  characteristic  is  to 
keep  connection  with  the  past,  as  Parker  tried  to  do,  by 
vesting  old  terms  with  new  significance.  But,  where 
earnest  majorities  protest,  it  may  be  doubted  whether 
this  will  always  seem  as  noble  or  as  needful  a  procedure 
as  it  has  hitherto  been  judged  by  Liberals.  Some  day 
the  principle  of  Free  Inquiry  will  widely,  genuinely, 
permeate  religious  thinking :  and  then  the  dissenter  will 
not  taunt  old  allies  for  not  following  him  to  his  results, 
nor  will  they  charge  him  with  setting  up  autochihony ; 
and  fresh  names  will  probably  fit  themselves  to  fresh 
growths  of  thought  without  involving  wide  severance  of 
fellowship,  —  that  common  principle  uniting  all.  Until 
that  day,  new  thought  brings,  presently,  the  practical 
disfellowship  in  spite  of  all  reluctance.  The  process, 
painful  as  it  is,  is  nature's  process  to  keep  thought  clear 
and  speech  sincere.  Thus  it  was  in  the  previous  phase 
of  Unitarianism.  Now  again  a  separation  was  begin- 
ning ;  and,  through  the  recognition  of  its  need  by  the 
clear-headed  conservatives,  growth  was  probably  has- 
tened. 

With  this  new  background  to  our  picture,  we  turn 
asrain  to  ]\Ir.  Gannett's  life. 


4  BuMSTEAD  Place. 


Yin. 


MID-DAY:    KEEPING   THE    FAITH. 

1838-1852. 


Country-nooks  still  nestled  between  brick  walls  in 
the  heart  of  Boston  in  1838.  Near  where  the  Music 
Hall  now  stands,  a  narrow  niche  set  in  from  the  noisy 
street,  gate-guarded  from  it,  whose  one  whole  side  was 
lined  with  vines  and  trees,  while  a  deep  recess  at  the 
end  held  a  large  garden.  This  was  "  Bumstead  Place." 
Of  tlie  four  or  five  houses  thus  sequestered,  one  was  a 
strange  rarabhng  building  of  four  links,  half  of  it  hidden 
in  a  great  grape-vine.  It  was  but  one  room  deep, — 
but  then  it  had  three  front  doors,  and  one  door  had  a 
knocker  !  Inside,  it  had  a  quaint  and  old-time  aspect,  too. 
Higli-perched  on  the  staircase  wall,  an  arched  and  cur- 
tained window  opened  into  darkness  :  what  mortal  knew 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:    KEEPING    THE   FAITH.        205 

that  secret  ?  Above,  a  long  dim  garret  stretched  ;  down- 
stairs the  best  rooms  kept  the  carved  mantel-piece  and 
shining  brasses  round  the  fire-place. 

Here  Mr.  Gannett  made  the  new  home,  and  found 
the  next  few  years  the  brightest,  happiest,  of  his  life. 
For  he  was  noting  for  the  first  time  baby-chronicles  ; 
the  community  already  knew  and  trusted  him  ;  and  he 
had  brought  home  health  and  that  praise  for  eloquence 
in  London  pulpits,  —  besides  a  large  stock  of  brave  re- 
solves. No  man  more  wise  than  he  looks  forward  from 
the  ship  :  — 

"  I  must  observe  some  general  principles,  e.  g. :  — 

"  To  sleep  seven  or  eight  hours  in  every  twenty-four. 
"  To  go  to  bed  as  soon  after  ten  o'clock  as  possible. 
"To  begin  my  sermon   on    Tuesday  or  Wednesday, 

and  finish  it  before  Friday  night,  so  as  — 
"  To  have  Saturday  for  rest. 

"  To  take  Thursday  for  recreation,,  lecture,,  riding,  <fec. 
"  To  make  cheerfulness  and  enjoyment  of  hfe  essenr- 

tial  duties. 
"  To  avoid  anxiety  and  excitement." 

How  could  he  but  be  hopeful?  Only  thirty-seven 
j'"ears  old,  with  the  best  working-years  yet  to  come.  The 
restlessness  of  other  minds  made  his  religious  thought 
seem  doubly  clear  and  fixed,  and  this  stability  just  then, 
being  matched  with  the  gift  of  utterance,  was  still  an- 
other element  of  influence.  His  pulse  did  not  beat  in 
sympathy  with  the  general  fever  of  the  time.  In  every 
way  he  was  steadjdng  himself. 

Feb.  26,  1839.  "Offered  prayer  at  the  sixtli  Simultaneous 
Meeting  of  Friends  of  Temperance  in  Marlboro'  Chapel.  On 
the  whole,  my  distrust  of  the  value  of  such  meetings  was 
confirmed.     They  nourish,  as  well  as  grow  out  of,  a  system 


206  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1838-1852. 

of  agitation;  tbey  excite  rather  than  inform  the  people. 
There  is  more  or  less  of  deception  and  machinery  about 
them.  They  belong  to  an  artificial  mode  of  sustaining  truth 
and  virtue.  One  is  tempted  to  say  things  that  he  would  not 
utter  in  calmer  scenes  because  his  convictions  do  not  sup- 
port them ;  but  here  he  is  led  away  by  his  sympathies.  I 
used  language  respecting  the  laws  of  the  Commonwealth 
which  I  very  much  regret,  because,  although  abstractly  true, 
yet  it  must  have  been  immediately  applied  to  the  late  legis- 
lation on  this  subject,  and  would  seem  to  express  my  appro- 
bation of  a  law  and  of  measures  the  wisdom  of  which  I 
doubt." 

Sept.  10,  1840.  "  Great  "Whig  procession  to  Bunker  Hill. 
I  felt  less  sympathy  than  before  with  the  whole  movement. 
A  great  political  question  settled  by  excitement.  I  did  not 
go  to  the  Fair  for  the  Monument,  as  I  cannot  approve  of  this 
attempt  to  perpetuate  the  remembrance  of  bloodshed  and 
civil  strife." 

Suddenly,  from  out  the  clear  sky  fell  a  stroke  !  Was 
he  a  doomed  man,  after  all  ?  All  the  work  had  been 
renewed ;  but  what  meant  the  strange  uneasiness,  this 
inability  to  write  ?  The  tell-tale  Journal  reveals  the 
fate  of  those  "  general  princijDles  ;  "  — 

"  Wrote  till  one  o'clock ;  slept  in  chair  till  three,  then  wrote 
till  six,  Sunday,  a.m.,  when  I  went  to  bed.  I  am  sorry,  but 
could  hardly  help  it.  .  .  .  This  writing  sermons  is  slow 
martyrdom,  and  extempore  preaching  now  is  almost  as  bad." 

At  last,  in  the  summer,  — the  very  first  summer  after 
the  return,  —  there  came  "  the  longest  night  I  think  I 
ever  passed ; "  and  the  next  entry,  a  fortnight  later, 
was  Avritten  when  he  was  rising  from  a  shock  of  par- 
alysis :  — 

'■^  Dr.  Bigclow  thinks  it  had  been  slowly  and  secretly  com- 
ing on,  that  my  constitution  docs  not  seem  to  be  injured  by 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:    KEEPING    THE  FAITH.       207 

it,  and  that  the  limb  will  probably  recover  its  usual  strength 
in  the  course  of  time.  ...  I  must  be  patient.  It  is  such  a 
discipline  as  I  needed,  full  of  trial  for  my  character  and  in- 
struction for  my  soul.  ...  I  certainly  have  abundant  reason 
for  gratitude,  both  that  I  have  suffered  so  little,  and  that  I 
am  recovering  so  soon.  People  have  sent  and  called  con- 
tinually." 

Not  till  October  could  he  write  :  — 

"Yesterday  was  a  red-letter  day  in  my  life,  —  the  anniver- 
sary of  my  marriage,  and  the  day  of  my  resuming  my  minis- 
terial duties,  after  an  absence  of  eight  Sundays  from  church." 

But  the  escape  was  not  so  complete  as  he  had  hoped. 
The  power  of  the  right  leg,  except  to  suffer,  was  for 
ever  gone.  Henceforth  a  pair  of  canes,  two  short 
hand-crutches,  were  his  life-companions.  Their  advent 
is  recorded,  and  that  is  almost  the  only  time  they  ap- 
pear in  the  Journal.  They  became  a  part  of  him,  the 
signal  to  eye  and  ear,  by  which  every  one  knew  "  Dr. 
Gannett  "  in  Boston  streets.  When  in  a  hurry  for  the 
cars,  and  he  always  was,  —  or  belated  for  the  church 
service,  as  he  often  was,  —  his  quick  leaps  between  them, 
as  he  fled  clicking  along  the  sidewalks,  used  to  make 
the  boys  turn  and  shout ;  a  tribute  that  he  never  seemed 
to  notice.  When  he  was  at  home,  the  canes  were 
always  in  the  corner :  the  empty  corner  told  his  absence. 
As  a  fixed  condition  of  his  life,  the  infirmity  was  far 
past  complaint,  or  even  thought.  He  would  join  the 
party  up  the  mountain,  or  guide  an  English  friend  to 
the  State  House  cupola,  or  follow  the  streets  as  long  as 
most  men  and  as  fast.  In  truth,  it  seemed  to  have 
given  him,  rather  than  almost  robbed  him  of,  a  limb. 

The  arrangement  of  a  hymn-book  for  his  Sunday 
School  was  one  fruit  of  the  confinement.     On  recovery. 


208  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1838-1852. 

the  first  deed  was  to  reprint  a  little  volume,  that  he 
liked,  on  "Woman's  Mission.  Then  came  an  elaborate 
tract  on  Atonement,  which  Neheraiah  Adams  courteously 
answered  in  behalf  of  the  Orthodox.  ''  I  should  be  glad 
to  reply  to  your  letter,  if  it  were  only  to  show  by  my 
example  in  concurrence  with  your  own  that  Christian 
ministers  can  discuss  subjects  of  the  deepest  interest  in 
good  temper,"  Mr.  Gannett  wrote  to  him. 

That  an  unwonted  life  thrilled  through  the  Unitarian  i 
Churches  about  this  time,  has  been  already  mentioned. 
Plans  were  mooted  to  increase  the  number  of  professors 
at  the  Divinity  School,  and  send  out  missionaries  to  help 
the  feeble  parishes.  Not  seldom,  in  the  Ministers'  Asso- 
ciation, or  the  ''  Berry  Street  Conference,"  or  on  the 
special  committees,  Mr.  Gannett  was  the  one  to  suggest, 
always  he  was  one  to  urge  forward,  such  measures,  and 
sometimes  with  an  eagerness  that  brought  repentance. 
"  An  earnest  discussion,  and  I  at  last  spoke  with  a  free- 
dom and  warmth  that  I  rather  regret;  it  was  not  wise." 
Often  comes  that  confession.  His  own  Bible  classes 
grew  more  interesting,  new  members  joined  the  church, 
there  were  weekly  conversation-meetings  among  the 
people,  and  in  his  vestry  the  ministers  and  laymen  dis- 
cussed together  the  questions,  which  now,  as  twenty 
years  before,  moved  others  besides  the  theologians. 

But  his  more  special  contribution  to  the  revival  was 
the  "  Monthly  Miscellany  of  Religion  and  Letters,"  and 
courses  of  Sunday  evening  lectures  on  Unitarian  and, 
Scriptural  Christianity.  By  »Tanuar3%  1840,  in  his  first' 
limping  days,  he  had  undertaken  the  care  of  the  maga- 
zine,—  an  infant  that  had  been  orphaned  of  its  father 
after  one  year  of  existence.  It  was  designed  to  furnish 
religious  reading  for  the  people,  treat  Unitarian  opinions 
in  their  practical  bearings,  and  show  their  power  to  pro- 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:    KEEPING    THE  FAITH.       209 

duce  holiness  of  life  ;  and  by  weight  of  contents  to 
come  between  the  weekly  "  Register"  and  the  "  Chris- 
tian Examiner."  Besides  writing  his  articles,  the  editor 
took  special  pains  with  the  department  of  Religious 
Intelligence,  spending  on  it  and  grudging  to  it  much 
time  and  labor,  —  thanks  to  which  it  remains  a  chronicle 
of  worth  for  the  exciting  years  that  followed. 

Lectures  had  lately  become  a  very  popular  instru- 
ment of  culture  in  Boston,  four  or  five  courses  some- 
times going  on  at  once.  In  their  limited  field,  Mr. 
Gannett's  corresponded  to  Dr.  Walker's  famous  series 
on  Natural  Religion,  to  Emerson's  addresses,  and  Par- 
ker's five  discourses.  The  church  was  filled  to  over- 
flowing, aisles  and  pulpit-stairs,  by  listeners  listening 
two  hours  long.  People  suffered  themselves  to  be 
locked  into  the  church  at  the  close  of  the  afternoon 
service,  to  be  sure  of  a  good  seat  in  the  evening ;  and 
ministers,  now  gray-headed,  then  students  in  the  Divin- 
ity School,  remember  their  eager  walks  over  Cambridge 
bridge  to  hear  the  eloquent  speaker  of  Federal  Street. 
He  used  to  enter  the  pulpit  with  topics  carefully  laid 
out  and  texts  arranged,  perhaps  with  his  arms  full  of 
books;  then,  giving  himself  up  to  the  themes,  that  were 
at  once  those  of  his  science  and  his  faith,  he  would 
speak  on  and  on  in  a  rapid  flow  of  exegesis,  criticism, 
argument,  and  appeal.  The  people,  musing,  wondering, 
groping  for  light  as  they  were,  welcomed  the  clear  and 
glowing  statements.  They  were  probably  the  last  sys- 
tematic expositions  of  "  old-fashioned  Unitarianism " 
that  won  enthusiastic  hearing  in  the  city  where  its  New 
England,  disciples  were  first  called  by  the  name. 

In  spite  of  the  crowded  houses,  the  lectures  by  no 
means  satisfied  the  lecturer.  The  note  in  the  Journal 
was  usually  a  word  of  disparagement:  ''Not  fluent;" 

14 


210  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1838-1852. 

"Had  not  sufficiently  laid  up  the  topics,  so  was  too 
dependent  on  my  notes ;  "  "  Used  harsher  language 
about  other  sects  than  I  ought."  Of  the  discourse  on 
"  Jesus  Christ,  the  Mediator,"  he  writes :  — 

"  Lectured  two  hours  and  twenty  minutes :  on  the  whole 
was  satisfied,  excepting  with  the  length  and  with  some 
remarks  at  the  close,  which  seemed  like  rhetorical  flourish. 
The  mistake  of  length  arose  from  my  attempt  to  give  a 
thorough  examination  to  the  Orthodox  texts,  instead  of 
making  a  selection  from  them.  And  yet  I  doubt  if  I  did 
not  adopt  the  better  plan.  I  had  finished  this  part  of  the 
lecture  at  the  close  of  the  first  hour  and  half;  but,  had  I 
stopped  there,  I  should  have  left  only  a  negative  impression 
of  what  we  did  not  believe:  I  preferred  to  go  on,  and  leave 
as  full  a  positive  impression  as  I  could.  This  obliged  me, 
however,  to  be  very  rapid  in  the  latter  part.  The  audience 
were  wonderfully  attentive :  very  few  went  out.  The  house 
was  entirely  full." 

But  if  the  people  did  not  go  out,  the  lamps  did :  — 

"May  I,  as  the  representative  of  many  hundreds,  beg 
of  you  to  shorten  your  lectures?  Their  length  has  regu- 
larly increased  on  each  successive  evening  from  the  begin- 
ning. The  audience  make  no  complaint  on  their  own 
account,  —  nobody  leaves  the  church,  though  hundreds  were 
there  upwards  of  four  hours  last  Sunday  evening,  as  I  can 
personally  attest ;  but  we  have  the  most  serious  apprehen- 
sions/or you.  Some  inconvenience  arises  too  from  the  fail- 
ing of  the  lamps :  they  do  not  hold  oil  enough  for  so  long  a 
time,  and  four  of  them  went  out  last  Sunday  evening." 

Before  the  next  winter  gas  had  been  introduced  to 
meet  the  emergency  that  friends  expected  would  recur. 

The  good  parish  voted  him  relief  in  the  spring  after 
these  lectures  ;  but  it  could  not  be  thought  of  then,  and 
the  sessions  of  the  ''  Pierpont  Council "  ran  far  into  the 


1838-1852.]    MID-DAY:   KEEPING    THE  FAITH.       211 

summer  (1841).  Rev.  John  Pierpont,  of  the  Hollis 
Street  Church,  had  been  too  uncompromising  a  reformer 
to  be  good  pastor,  thought  some  of  his  flock;  while 
others  stood  by  him  as  the  bold  champion  of  temper- 
ance and  anti-slavery  and  the  liberty  of  the  pulpit.  At 
last  by  mutual  consent  the  difficulty  was  referred  to  a 
council,  and  the  brother-ministers  were  summoned  to 
their  thankless  task.  Because  laborious  and  thankless, 
Mr.  Gannett  believed  they  had  no  right  to  shrink  while 
a  possibility  existed  of  healing  the  torn  parish.  The 
council  exonerated  Pierpont  in  the  main,  —  not  wholly, 
for  his  tone  and  spirit  had  been  sharp.  Therefore  the 
decision  satisfied  neither  party.  Theodore  Parker, 
reviewing  it  in  the  "  Dial,"  called  it  "  a  piece  of  diplo- 
macy worthy  of  a  college  of  Jesuits,"  —  a  piece  of  injus- 
tice to  one  at  least  that  was  keenly  felt.  Once  engaged, 
no  one  had  been  more  anxious  than  Mr.  Gannett  to 
effect  successful  mediation  ;  and  the  thick  manuscript  of 
notes  and  details  attests  the  conscientious  painstaking 
of  his  verdict.  A  slur  thrown  on  his  honesty  of  motive 
always  wounded  him  more  deeply  than  any  possible 
condemnation  of  his  deed. 

At  last  in  the  autumn  he  escaped,  tired  enough,  to  the 
White  Mountains,  and  on  to  Trenton  Falls,  where  some 
dear  friends  lived  who  had  brought  their  quaint  names 
and  liberal  faith  from  Holland.  Trenton  was  a  favor- 
ite spot.  Again  and  again  his  journeymg  feet  turned 
thither  for  the  welcome.     At  the  Notch  he  writes ;  — 

"  I  should  not  send  an  atheist  or  an  irreligious  person  here 
for  religious  impression.  The  scene  is  not  majestic  and 
wild  so  much  as  desolate.  Desolation  and  ruin  are  the 
imas^es  these  mountains  leave  upon  the  mind.  They  would 
not  humanize.     They  spoke  to   me   of  a  cruel  or  gloomy 


212  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1838-1852. 

rather  than  a  paternal  God.  The  silence,  however,  of  the 
Notch  this  evening  was  impressive.  The  stillness  and  re- 
lease from  bustle,  excitement,  and  constant  something-to-do^ 
which  I  have  enjoyed  thelast  three  days,  have  been  exquisite. 
They  have  given  me  a  peculiar  feeling  of  happiness,  com- 
plete in  itself,  and  yet  composed  of  this  one  sense  of  freedom 
from  noise  and  toil." 

After  describing  the  ascent  of  Mount  Washington,  he 
adds : — 

"  I  was  almost  in  despair  before  I  reached  the  stage-road. 
I  doubt  if  I  had  mounted  a  horse  before  for  four  years,  since, 
indeed,  I  rode  through  the  mountains  of  Westmoreland. 
But  a  night's  sleep,  —  oh,  what  virtues  there  are  in  rest 
and  sleep !  Tell  me  that  there  is  no  indication  of  a  Provi- 
dence in  life !  There  are  more  proofs  of  an  infinite  wisdom 
and  a  paternal  care  exercised  towards  man  in  a  single  night's 
rest  than  in  all  the  o-randeur  of  this  mountain  rang-e.  .  .  . 
Crawford  talks  seriously  of  making  a  carriage-road  from  his 
house  to  the  foot  of  Mount  Washington.  It  can  doubtless 
be  done." 

''  A  very  pleasant  journey,"  he  says  of  it,  on  reaching 
home,  —  "such  a  one  as  I  wished,  exercise  of  body  and 
rest  of  mind  ;  been  gone  just  three  weeks,  and  had  fresh 
proof  of  the  goodness  which  crowns  every  day  of  my  life." 

But  the  work  had,  after  all,  gone  with  him.  When 
the  wagon  broke  down  in  Franconia,  out  came  the  ink- 
bottle  to  write  "  copy  for  the  magazine."  And,  once  at 
home  again,  the  engagements  began  to  click  into  each 
other  like  wheel-work  from  mornino:  to  late  nio-ht.  The 
sermon-habit  held  full  sway.  Now  and  then  two  ser- 
mons came  between  the  Saturday  and  Sunday  supper- 
times.  This  was  the  kind  of  toil  which,  with  his  two 
canes,  made  him  look  already  old.  In  one  of  the 
mountain-taverns  he  had  been  greeted,  "  A  smart,  active 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:   KEEPING    THE  FAITH.        213 

man  for  your  age,  sir !  "  —  "  How  old  do  you  suppose  ?  " 
—  ''I  should  say,  fifty."  — "  Just  forty."  And  the 
kind  of  toil  which  was  making  him  old.  The  next 
winter's  course  of  lectures  was  not  over  when  the  wife's 
hand  comes  among  the  Journal-pages  to  record  :  *'  April 
6.  Sick.  Dr.  Bigelow  six  times  and  Dr.  Jackson  once." 
A  second  quick,  sharp  warning,  probably  of  the  same 
nature  as  before ;  and  another  two  months  went  by 
before  he  preached  again. 

In  October  of  this  year  (1842)  word  came  to  Boston 
from  the  country,  —  Dr.  Channing  is  dead! 

For  eighteen  years  they  had  been  joined  in  labor  and 
love  for  the  one  parish.  Unlike  as  they  were,  few 
friends  could  claim  a  closer  nearness  to  his  great  asso- 
ciate than  Mr.  Gannett.  It  was  his  privilege  now  to  be 
the  first  to  offer  those  tributes  to  the  mind,  the  charac- 
ter, the  spiritual  insight,  the  life-giving  influence,  which 
were  uttered  in  so  many  sorrowing  churches  of  both 
the  Englands,  as  the  tidings  reached  them.  As  the 
after-years  went  by,  it  was  his  delight  to  bring  fresh 
reverence  to  Channing's  memory.  Time  and  again,  in 
sermon  and  lecture,  and  once  by  special  service  of 
remembrance,  he  caught  anew  the  young  man's  attitude, 
to  speak  his  gratitude  and  keep  the  name  a  living  in- 
spiration in  the  church.  The  last  sermon  in  the  old 
meeting-house  and  the  "  Fortieth  Year's  Sermon  "  but  re- 
echo what  he  said  on  the  first  Sunday  of  loneliness  :  — 

1842.  "  After  my  connection  with  this  society,  he  encour- 
aged me  in  every  plan  I  undertook,  welcomed  every  sign  of 
increasing  sympathy  and  energy  among  us,  and  cheered  me 
under  every  occasion  of  despondency.  How  often  would  my 
spirit  have  wholly  sank  within  me,  if  he  had  not  animated 
me  to  new  struggle  with  the  discouragement  of  my  own 
heart!" 


214  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1838-1852. 

1864.  "Daring  Dr.  Channing's  life  I  knew  that  no  mis- 
take of  mine  could  seriously  affect  the  interests  of  the 
congregation.  On  his  forbearance  I  now  look  back  with 
amazement." 

In  his  magazine  he  also  gathered  up  in  three  long 
articles  the  choicest  words  of  others'  reverence.  And, 
when  the  autumn  came  again,  he  made  a  pilgrimage  to 
the  spots  in  which  Dr.  Channing  spent  his  last  days. 

October,  1843.  "I  have  all  summer,  indeed  for  a  year, 
wished  to  visit  Lenox  and  Bennington  this  season,  that  I 
might  place  my  mind  more  immediately  in  the  midst  of  asso- 
ciations connected  with  Dr.  Channing.  ...  I  am  in  Lenox, 
writing  in  the  chamber  occupied  by  him,  delightfully  situat- 
ed, looking  towards  the  south  and  west  over  hills  and  vales, 
with  a  little  lake  in  the  midst  of  the  scene.  It  is  now  rich  in 
beauty  from  the  autumn  foliage ;  and  I  can  understand  how 
in  summer  he  must  have  enjoyed  the  deep  verdure,  the 
graceful  forms  of  the  mountains  and  cultivated  fields  blended 
in  one  landscape,  which  he  looked  upon  from  the  bosom  ot 
this  quiet  village. .  .  .  Miss  Sedgwick  showed  me  a  letter 
which  Dr.  Channing  wrote  to  her  from  here  that  summer, 
full  of  playful  sentiment,  unlike  any  thing  of  his  I  ever  saw 
before.  They  told  me  of  his  great  spirits  while  here,  his 
high  enjoyment  of  nature  and  a  singular  freedom  of  man- 
ners, and  even  extreme  mirth,  of  his  unusual  health,  too,  up 
to  the  very  time  of  his  leaving.  He  does  not  seem  to  have 
made  much  impression  upon  the  people  here,  out  of  the 
Sedgwick  family.  Tlie  landlord  showed  only  that  he  knew 
an  eminent  man  had  been  in  his  house." 

At  Bennington.  "  I  am  now  writing  in  the  room  in  which 
Dr.  Channing  died.  What  scenes  of  life  and  death  have 
hallowed  it,  —  of  true  spiritual  life,  and  of  physical  death. 
I  mr/st  become  a  better  man  from  my  enjoyment  of  the 
privileges  of  his  acquaintance  and  character.  Let  it  not 
be  my  condemnation  that  I  have  had  such  great  blessings." 


1838-1852.]    MID-DAY:   KEEPING    THE  FAITH.        215 

The  ministers  of  the  early  day  of  Unitarianism  were 
now  fast  passing,  one  by  one,  from  sight.  Dr.  Tucker- 
man  and  Dr.  FoUen  had  gone  two  years  before  their 
friend ;  Greenwood  and  the  younger  Henry  Ware  fol- 
lowed him  closely  after.  Mr.  Gannett  said  the  last 
prayer  over  Dr.  Tuckerman,  and  from  Ware's  bedside 
bore  to  the  brethren  the  good-by:  — 

"  How  glad  I  am  that  I  went  up  to  see  him,  and  what  a 
privilege  has  his  friendship  been  to  me !  How  richly  have  I 
been  favored  in  the  acquaintance  of  such  men  as  Mr.  Ware, 
Dr.  Channing,  Dr.  Follen,  Dr.  Tuckerman,  —  such  as  I  never 
expect  to  see  again ! " 

He  himself,  now  forty-two  years  old,  was  beginning 
to  be  counted  among  the  elders  and  established  lead- 
ers of  the  denomination.  His  parish-work  was  hardly 
greater  than  before  the  vanishing,  but  more  demand  for 
outside  service  came.  He  preached  the  ''  Election  Ser- 
mon "  of  1842,  noting,  ''  I  had  taken  pains  in  preparing 
and  in  writing  it,  and  am  satisfied  from  the  result  that 
I  cannot  preach  more  than  pretty  well."  The  next 
year  he  gave  the  Dudleian  Lecture  at  the  College, —  a 
clear  statement  of  the  relations  of  Natural  to  Revealed 
Religion,  as  he  conceived  them  :  — 

"  Let  me  attempt  to  enclose  the  result  to  which  we  have 
come  within  a  single  sentence.  It  shall  be  this.  Natural 
Religion,  by  teaching  the  being  and  perfection  of  God,  lays 
an  indispensable  and  sufficient  foundation  for  Revealed  Reli- 
gion; by  its  inability  to  teach  more  it  renders  Revelation 
both  acceptable  and  probable ;  and  by  hints  that  it  affords, 
which  become  available  to  any  purpose  of  instruction  only 
after  the  entrance  of  Revelation  into  the  world,  it  confirms 
and  expands  the  teachings  which  come  through  this  latter 
source." 


216  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1838-1852. 

Harvard  now  conferred  the  title  which  will  henceforth 
make  his  name  sound  more  familiar  in  our  story  :  — 

Aug.  23,  1 843.  "  To-day  I  received  the  degree  of  D.D. 
from  Harvard  University.  In  all  honesty  it  makes  me  feel 
ashamed,  when  I  think  how  little  I  deserve  it.  How  do  cir- 
cumstances determine  a  man's  visible  position  in  the  com- 
munity, rather  than  his  merits !  Here  are  hundreds  of  men 
who  are  far  more*  worthy  than  I  to  receive  such  a  diploma ; 
while  I,  who  am  altogether  destitute  of  the  learning  or  the 
character  which  might  entitle  me  to  it,  receive  it  because  I 
happen  to  be  settled  in  Boston  and  to  have  been  once  the 
minister  of  President  Quincy." 

With  such  feelings,  no  doubt  he  hesitated  before 
giving  up  the  humbler  magazine  to  assume  joint  charge 
with  Dr.  Lamson  of  the  "  Christian  Examiner."  For  a 
while,  indeed,  he  had  a  hand  in  both,  till  Frederic  Hunt- 
ington took  the  former  wholly  to  himself,  christening  it 
anew  "  Monthl}^  Religious  Magazine."  Through  five 
years  (January,  1844  —  May,  1849)  the  regular  Thurs- 
day formula  in  the  Journal  reads,  ''  On  the  Examiner 
with  Dr.  Lamson ;  "  and  the  study  on  that  day  became 
proof  against  the  children's  noise.  Of  his  own  contri- 
butions, which  rarely  exceeded  three  or  four  a  year, 
several  were  upon  the  denomination  in  its  various  as- 
pects. The  most  noticeable  of  all  was  an  article  on 
Theodore  Parker  and  Transcendentalism. 


These  were  the  years  in  which  that  m3^sterious  ism 
excited  such  curiosity  and  alarm  in  Unitarian  circles. 
Few  were  sturdier  in  opposing  it  than  Dr.  Gannett,  and 
few  among  the  opponents  more  ready  with  justice  to 
its  friends.  He  was  wary  of  "  intuitions."  What  was 
this  peering  "consciousness,"  this  '' higher  reason,"  that 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:   KEEPING    THE   FAITH.        217 

seemed  like  feeling  trying  to  p"'ay  the  role  of  intellect 
while  decrying  intellectual  processes  and  outcomes? 
His  own  reason  led  him  through  plain  processes  of  the 
understanding  to  profound  convictions  clearly  outlined : 
at  the  same  time  he  had  the  enthusiastic  temper  seldom 
found  with  thought  so  logically  fashioned,  and  absolute 
sincerity  of  speech.  No  wonder,  then,  that  his  voice 
was  as  strenuous  against  the  "  new  views  "  as  it  had 
been  strenuous  for  the  previous  heresy.  Rather  wonder 
if  it  had  not  been  so.  He  had  done  his  best  to  estab- 
lish Unitarianism  against  the  Orthodox  attack  ;  and  now, 
valuing  that  faith  not  merely  as  a  result  of  free  inquiry 
in  religion,  but  as  the  true  result,  the  very  truth  itself, 
he  faced  about  with  the  same  loyalty  to  keep  the  faith 
against  this  fresh  denial. 

Signs  in  the  Journal  indicate  what  is  going  on.  He 
demurs  a  little  at  Dr.  Channing's  apparent  leaning:  — 

Dec.  22, 1839.  "  Dr.  Channing  preached  in  the  morning  on 
'religion  a  moral  exercise  of  the  mind,'  — illustrated  princi- 
pally by  remarks  on  the  views  we  should  entertain  of  God ; 
on  the  proper  ground  of  worship  and  obedience,  as  not 
being  the  sovereignty,  but  the  moral  character,  'of  the 
Divinity.'  Dr.  C.  maintained  that  conscience  is  the  foun- 
dation of  piety,  and  '  the  voluntary  subjection  of  God  to  a 
law  of  rectitude'  its  justification.  I  did  not  like  the  sermon. 
It  seemed  to  me  to  be  based  on  the  unsound  philosophy  that 
moraUty  is,  in  theory  at  least,  independent  of  the  divine  will, 
instead  of  being,  as  it  is,  nothing  but  an  expression  of  this 
will ;  and  to  be  suited  to  do  harm  rather  than  good  at  the 
present  time,  when  among  us  loose  notions  concerning  the 
divine  personality  and  government  are  so  prevalent.  As 
an  exposure  of  Calvinistic  superstition^  it  was  valuable;  but 
Dr.  C.'s  statements  needed  qualification.  The  close  of  the 
sermon,  in  which  he  spoke,  on  the  other  hand,  of  attributing 
to  God  an  indulgent  fondness,  w^as  excellent." 


218  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1838-1852. 

Jan.  5,  1840.  "Dr.  Channing  preached  a  sermon  of  uncom- 
mon power,  but  of  doubtful  utility,  in  defence  and  illustration 
of  the  doctrine  that  the  glory  of  Christianity  consists  not  in 
any  thing  peculiar  to  itself,  but  in  what  it  has  in  common  with 
the  teachings  'of  reason  and  nature;'  its  most  important 
truths,  —  e.g.,  the  being  and  unity  of  God,  human  immortality, 
and  the  presence  and  aid  of  the  Divine  Spirit, — being  only 
clearer  declarations  of  what  had  been  whispered  by  these 
other  teachers.  Even  the  character  of  Christ  and  the  charac- 
ter of  God,  Dr.  C.  thought,  were  excellent  and  glorious  rather 
for  what  they  had  in  common  with  other  good  beings  than 
for  any  attribute  which  they  alone  possessed.  The  discourse 
was  powerful  and  bold ;  but,  without  more  qualification  than 
Dr.  C.  introduced,  I  doubt  if  it  was  not  suited  to  do  more 
harm  than  good." 

Here  is  another  glimpse  of  the  Boston  Association  in 
council :  — 

Dec.  9,  1839.  "Walked  to  Association  at  Ripley's,  and 
home  in  evening.  One  of  the  best  meetings  I  ever  attended. 
Present :  Dr.  Peirce,  Frothingham,  Parkman,  Young,  Capen, 
Ripley,  Bartol,  C.  Robbins,  Sargent,  Hall  of  Dorchester, 
Hall  of  Providence,  Everett  of  Northfield,  Dwight,  Lothrop, 
and  I, — 15.  Discussion  began  at  6J,  and  continued  without 
any  pause  till  9| ;  Ripley,  Frothingham,  Bartol,  and  I  tak- 
ing the  greater  part,  with  occasional  remarks  from  Parkman, 
Dwight,  Capen,  Lothrop,  Young,  and  Hall  of  Providence. 
Subject,  the  comparative  value  of  external  authority,  i.  e. 
an  outward  revelation,  and  the  inward  judgment,  whether 
founded  on  'instinct,'  reason,  or  experience.  The  discussion 
was  singularly  free  and  candid,  calm  but  earnest,  with  va- 
riety of  opinion,  but  with  great  harmony  of  feeling.  Rip- 
ley expressed  himself  with  more  caution  than  I  had  expected. 
With  such  ex])lanations  and  qualifications  as  he  made,  his 
views  would  do  no  harm ;  for  he  attaches  great  value  to  an 
outward  revelation,  speaks  with  the  greatest  gratitude   of 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:  KEEPING    THE  FAITH.        219 

Christ,  and  says  we  can  never  do  without  him,  and,  as  I 
understand  him,  he  does  not  believe  in  any  suggestions  of 
religious  truth  by  our  own  nature  which  can  afford  ground 
of  reliance.  The  revelation,  —  Christ,  —  he  says,  comes  and 
awakens  a  consciousness,  }3roduces  a  faith,  which  becomes 
more  and  more  experience ;  and  the  Christian,  as  he  goes  on, 
relies  more  on  this  experience  than  on  any  external  authority 
for  the  justification  of  his  faith.  D wight  went  farther  in  his 
statements  than  Ripley,  and  seemed  to  me  to  enter  the 
region  of  indistinctness  and  error.  It  was  throughout  a 
pleasant  and  profitable  evening." 

And  here  the  whole  body  of  Unitarian  ministers  in 
the  great  Anniversary  Week  :  — 

May  27,  1840.  "Berry  Street  Conference:  did  not  get 
there  till  Mr.  Damon  had  nearly  finished,  on  miracles  as  an 
evidence  of  the  truth  of  Christianity.  Room  full.  Discus- 
sion on  *  new  views,'  and  the  treatment  which  they,  by  whom 
they  were  professed,  received;  the  speaking  principally  by 
the  New-School  men, —  Ripley,  who  was  very  earnest  and 
spoke  very  well,  Stetson,  Osgood,  &c.  I  replied  to  Ripley 
and  he  to  me  upon  the  point  of  injustice,  that  it  was 
mutual.  Throughout  it  was  a  fair  and  kind,  though  warm 
discussion." 

The  meeting  adjourned  to  the  next  day  "  for  farther  con- 
versation on  New  and  Old  School;  good  attendance  and 
good  discussion.  It  has  done  good  I  am  sure,  made  us 
understand  one  another  better,  and  produced  more  instead 
of  less  harmony  of  feeling." 

That  evening  "  I  had  a  very  interesting  conversation  with 
George  Ripley  on  his  views,  feelings,  and  situation.  Talked 
there  nearly  an  hour,  and  then  walked  home  and  talked  here 
a  little  while.  He  expressed  himself  with  entire  frankness, 
and  our  conversation  was  to  me  most  pleasant.  He  is 
uncomfortable  in  his  present  situation,  is  dissatisfied  with 
the  present  religious  and  social  institutions,  and  contera- 


220  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1833-1852. 

plates  a  change  in  his  own  mode  of  action ;  would  like  to 
preach  freely,  as  did  Brownson,  or  rather  as  Fox  in  London. 
He  seems  to  me  to  be  fond  of  a  class  of  terms  which  he 
thinks  denote  important  and  neglected  truths,  but  which  are 
either  symbols  of  error,  or  only  peculiar  forms  of  expressing 
fiiniliar  ideas.  He  considers  himself  in  relation  to  his  pres- 
ent views  '  the  child  of  Dr.  Channing,'  and  says  his  faith  is 
now,  after  ten  years'  study  of  theology,  as  firm  as  a  rock." 

April  21,  1841.  "Parker  of  Roxbury  here  for  an  hour, 
talking  about  religious  state  of  the  community,  and  differ- 
ences of  theological  opinion  ;  liked  him  very  much." 

A  month  later  Parker  gave  the  famous  ordination 
sermon  at  South  Boston,  on  "  The  Transient  and  the 
Permanent  in  Christianity."  Mr.  Gannett  was  present, 
taking  notes  for  the  account  in  the  magazine.  The 
account  won  protest  from  the  preacher,  to  the  amaze- 
ment of  the  reporter,  who  thought  he  had  done  little 
but  quote  Parkerisms  :  — 

"  My  good  brother  Gannett,  — ...  Your  report  of  my 
poor  sermon  bears  to  my  mind  but  few  of  the  marks  of  truth 
which  I  have  always  so  much  admired  in  you.  Don't  fancy, 
however,  I  dream  that  you  thought  of  misrepresenting  me. 
I  would  not  believe  it,  though  an  angel  told  me.  I  do  not 
wonder  at  the  treatment  the  sermon  has  met,  though  cer- 
tainly I  expected  it  would  make  no  noise  or  stir.  If  I  ever 
wrote  any  thing  with  a  Christian  zeal,  it  was  that  very  dis- 
course. I  remain  very  affectionately 

"Your  Christian  brother, 

"  Theodore  Parker." 

Of  the  autumn  lectures,  therefore,  which  followed, 
interpreting  the  sermon,  the  reporter  showed  his  notice, 
and  altered  it,  according  to  the  lecturer's  suggestion, 
before  sending  it  to  press.  Mr.  Parker's  vigor,  hearti- 
ness, sincerity,   and  bold  rebukes   of  selfishness  were 


1838-1852.]    MID-DAY:  KEEPING    THE  FAITH.        221 

praised,  but  not  "  the  boldness,  rather  than  the  pa- 
tience "  and  fairness,  of  his  criticism :  '*  he  is  certainly 
not  the  representative  of  Unitarian  opinions,  and  should 
not  be  so  considered,  he  would  probably  say,  in  justice 
to  himself,  —  we  as  decidedly  say,  in  justice  to  them." 

The  previous  chapter  told  how  the  excitement  spread, 
how  the  Boston  Association  of  Ministers  discussed  the 
plan  of  dissolution,  in  order  to  avoid  exclusion,  and  how 
they  held  a  special  conference  with  Parker,  —  a  con- 
ference of  which  this  was  the  close,  in  Parker's  words: 
"  At  last,  a  little  before  nine,  Bartol  spoke  in  praise  of 
my  sincerity,  which  some  had  called  in  question,  spoke 
many  words  of  moral  approbation ;  so  likewise  did 
Gannett  at  length,  and  with  his  usual  earnestness. 
Then  Chandler  Robbins  opened  his  mouth  to  the  same 
purpose.  I  burst  into  tears,  and  left  the  room."  Two 
years  later,  when  Parker  had  been  to  Europe  and 
returned  more  zealous  than  ever  for  a  reformation,  and 
in  the  Thursday  Lecture  had  given  omen  of  his  zeal,  the 
question  of  fellowship  again  arose  in  the  Association. 
The  younger  members  generally  felt  obliged  to  accept 
the  odium  he  brought  on  them,  as  one  of  the  incon- 
veniences of  liberality,  and  would  pass  no  vote  of  cen- 
sure. Of  the  older  members,  Dr.  Gannett,  it  is  said, 
was  the  only  one,  save  Mr.  Pierpont,  who  did  not  think 
it  necessary  to  exclude  him  from  their  communion  by 
some  kind  of  action.  To  publish  a  simple  disclaimer  of 
Parker's  opinions,  he  thought  would  be  right  and  would 
be  enough :  the  wisdom  of  even  this  course  he  ap- 
parently had  doubted  until  now.  He  was  one  of  the 
committee  of  three  delegated  to  hold  a  second  interview 
with  the  great  embarrass er.  "  From  ten  a.m.  to 
four  P.M."  of  a  winter's  day  it  lasted,  in  the  house  in 
Bumstead  Place.      "  Dined  here,"  the   Journal   adds ; 


222  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1838-1852. 

and  no  doubt  the  talk  kept  right  on  across  the  table  in 
the  little  dining-room.  But  no  good  was  done.  Parker 
soon  wrote  him  :  — 

"  I  am  sorry  for  the  Association,  but  I  cannot  help  it :  I 
cannot  take  the  0)2us  damnandi  on  my  shoulders.  It  would 
be  to  avow  that  there  is  good  cause  for  my  withdrawal.  By 
their  course  towards  Mr.  Sargent,  they  have  forced  me  to 
come  to  Boston  to  preach  every  Sunday  morning.  They 
have  in  a  measure  identified  me  with  freedom  in  religious 
matters." 

It  was  the  moment  of  final  break  between  the  Radical 
and  the  Unitarians.  There  was  much  excitement. 
Several  pamphlets  passed  to  and  fro,  and  among  them 
Dr.  Gannett's  article  on  "  Mr.  Parker  and  his  Views  " 
appeared  in  the  "Examiner"  for  March,  1845.  It  shows 
the  character  as  much  as  it  shows  the  thous^ht  of  the 
writer.  In  part  from  this  article,  in  part  from  two  or 
three  other  sources,  earlier  and  later,  we  extract  his  criti- 
cism of  the  intuition-theory  set  over  against  the  evidence 
on  which  his  own  mind  relied,  and  his  opinion  of  the 
true  "  Unitarian  "  course  to  be  pursued  towards  the  dis- 
turber of  the  faith.  Whether  the  intellectual  position 
be  accepted  or  rejected,  here  are  the  clear  conceptions, 
the  frank  intent,  the  conscientious  justice,  both  to  his 
own  belief  and  its  opponent,  for  which  all  Avho  ever 
knew  him  were  wont  to  give  him  credit :  — 

Is  Mr.  Parker  a  Christian?  —  "The  real  question  we 
conceive  to  be  a  question  concerning  the  foundations  of 
faith.  Why  shall  we  believe  religious  truths  ?  on  this  turns 
the  controversy;  not,  what  are  religious  truths?  The  his- 
torical ficts  of  religion  are,  in  strictness  of  speech,  its  proofs 
ratlier  than  its  truths.  .  .  .  The  distinction  is  important  in 
view  of  the  present  controversy. 

"  For,  adopting  this  distinction,  we  do  not  understand  that 


183^-1852.]    MID-DAY:  KEEPING   THE  FAITH.        223 

Mr.  Parker  denies  the  Christian  truths.  On  the  contrary, 
he  both  recognizes  and  insists  on  them,  makes  them  promi- 
nent and  authoritative,  and  calls  for  faith  in  them  as  just 
and  essential  to  the  true  life.  The  doctrines  not  only  of  the 
divine  government  and  providence,  but  of  immortality  and 
retribution ;  the  paternal  character  of  God,  the  fraternal  rela- 
tions of  mankind,  the  great  principles  of  love  to  God  and 
love  to  man ;  the  absolute  importance  of  righteousness,  and 
this  not  a  righteousness  of  external  propriety,  but  of  the 
whole  character,  —  universal  and  thorough  rectitude,  such 
as  is  seen  only  where  there  is  fidelity  to  all  our  obligations 
and  destinies ;  in  a  word,  the  authority  of  the  law  of  duty 
as  expounded  by  Christ,  —  all  these  points  we  understand  to 
be  as  heartily  believed  by  the  one  party  as  the  other  in  this 
controversy.  So  far  as  they  are  concerned,  he  whose  course 
has  given  so  much  pain  to  his  brethren  is  a  Christian 
believer ;  and,  so  far  as  the  inculcation  of  these  truths  is  con- 
cerned, he  is  most  certainly  a  Christian  teacher. 

"  But  he  denies  the  correctness  of  the  grounds  on  which 
these  truths  are  generally  received  as  authoritative ;  and  he 
presents  other  grounds  of  faith  which  we  believe  to  be  alto- 
gether insufficient  for  the  purpose.  He  denies  the  miraculous 
character  of  Christianity.  He  denies  that  Jesus  was  sent 
upon  a  special  mission  in  any  other  sense  than  that  in  which 
any  other  great  or  good  man  has  a  mission  to  perform, 
growing  out  of  the  exigencies  of  the  time  in  which  he  lives 
and  the  capacities  with  which  he  is  endowed.  He  denies 
the  inspiration  of  Jesus  in  any  other  sense  than  that  in 
which  it  may  be  shared  by  any  one  of  our  race,  —  the  same 
in  kind  with  what  we  all  have,  and  differing  in  degree 
only  according  to  the  larger  natural  endowment  and  moral 
or  spiritual  development  of  the  individual.  He  denies  the 
miraculous  narratives  of  the  New  Testament,  and  holds 
them  to  be  the  exaggerations  of  an  admiring  but  poorly 
enlightened  faith.  The  resurrection  even  of  our  Lord  he 
rejects  from  among  the  facts  which   he  can   believe,  and 


224  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.  [1838-1852. 

represents  the  Gospels  as  the  most  singular  compound  of 
the  true  and  the  false  that  the  literature  or  the  religion  of 
any  period  of  the  world  has  ever  known.  It  is  plain,  then, 
that  so  far  as  faith  in  the  supernatural  mission  of  Christ,  or 
in  the  historical  record  of  his  life,  is  concerned,  Mr.  Parker 
is  not  a  Christian  believer. 

"  And  yet  he  may  be  a  Christian  man ;  that  is  to  say,  he 
may  have  received  from  Christianity  influences  which  he  is 
too  slow  to  acknowledge,  that  have  made  him  a  pious  and 
upright  follower  of  the  Master  from  whom  he  withholds  this 
title.  It  may  be  a  speculative,  rather  than  a  practical,  denial 
of  Christ's  authority  which  we  observe  in  him ;  and,  notwith- 
standing the  instability  of  the  foundations  on  which  his  faith 
rests,  he  may  cherish  as  strong  a  conviction  as  we  of  the 
reality  of  the  Christian  truths,  and  draw  from  them  the 
strength  and  beauty  of  character  which  mark  a  true  dis- 
ciple." .  .  . 

He  rebukes  the  frequent  lightness  and  sarcasm  of 
Parker's  language  where  the  religious  sensibilities  of 
others  are  concerned,  but  does  "  not  doubt  that  in  the 
jealous  state  of  feeling  which  has  been  awakened  a 
great  deal  has  been  imputed  to  him  which  was  never  in 
his  heart  or  mind  ;  "  and  then  calmly  states  at  some 
length  the  chief  objections  to  his  views.  Those  views 
directly  impugn  the  fact  of  the  special  revelation,  they 
undervalue  its  contents  and  its  influence,  they  deprive 
us  of  the  only  sufficient  means  of  authenticating  it,  they 
even  make  worthless  all  historic  testimony  whatever, 
costing  us  the  words  as  well  as  the  deeds  of  Jesus  ; 
while  "  the  theory  of  the  intuitive  perception,  by  man- 
kind, of  the  nature  and  authority  of  absolute  truth  or 
absolute  religion,  we  hold  to  be  purely  a  theory  ;  and, 
for  the  support  of  our  opinion,  we  appeal  where  he 
makes  his  appeal,  to  consciousness  and  fact."  .  .  . 


1S38-1852.]     MID-DAY:  KEEPING   THE  FAITH.        225 

yRracle  and  Intuition.  —  "  In  the  modern  scepticism  as  to 
the  truth  of  the  miracles,  we  have  not  so  much  to  meet  the 
shafts  of  the  infidel  as  the  doubts  of  those  who  sincerely  ad- 
here to  our  own  religion.  And  it  seems  to  me  that  this  same 
controversy  as  to  the  real  nature  of  miracles  must  of  neces- 
sity be  prosecuted  for  ages  to  come,  as  it  has  been  for  ages 
back.  The  very  constitution  of  some  minds  inclines  them  to 
receive  with  ready  faith  what  another  class  would  reject  as 
entirely  inconclusive.  .  .  . 

"A  divine  revelation  is  a  special  interposition,  essentially 
and  intrinsically  a  miracle.  It  was  requisite  to  save  the 
world  from  utter  ruin.  And  it  was  given.  But,  again, 
individual  miracles  were  necessary  in  order  to  prove  the 
authenticity  of  the  revelation,  —  that  it  did  indeed  come  from 
heaven.  A  miracle  is  the  only  sufiicient  seal  of  the  divine 
character  of  a  mission.  No  other  evidence  which  may  be 
adduced  bears  that  peculiar  stamp  which  can  be  impressed 
only  by  the  hand  of  God.  On  what  else  can  you  rely  for  the 
proof  of  the  divine  attribute  ?  Do  you  say  on  the  internal 
character  of  such  mission  or  revelation  or  doctrine.  Why, 
then,  were  not  the  truths  promulgated  by  the  heathen  sages, 
their  excellent  lessons  of  morality,  their  conjectures  of  a 
future  state,  —  why  were  they  not  regarded  and  received  as 
truths  ?  They  all  commended  themselves  to  the  minds  of 
men :  why  did  not  men  embrace  them,  and  lean  upon  them 
as  on  a  staff"  which  could  not  be  broken  ?  Because  something 
more  than  all  this  was  necessary  to  render  them  authentic, 
—  to  give  to  them  authority. 

"  In  more  enlightened  ages  it  has  been  said  that  our  spirit- 
ual or  religious  instincts  are  sufficient  to  impress  on  us  the 
truths  of  Christianity.  '  The  mind  instinctively  perceives 
truth;  cannot  mistake  and  cannot  reject  it ;  but  confesses  its 
authority  and  rejoices  in  its  divinity.'  To  talk  of  spiritual  or 
religious  instincts  in  this  sense  is  an  abuse  of  the  term.  If 
there  be  any  one  peculiarity  which,  more  tlian  all  others, 
attaches  to  the  idea  of  instinct,  it   is  that   this  quality  is 

15 


226  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1838-1852. 

always  certain,  definite,  precise  in  its  oi^eration.  It  causes 
just  one  thing  to  be  done,  and  no  other.  Again,  it  is  in- 
capable of  progress.  It  induces  the  immediate  performance 
of  a  particular  act  at  the  moment,  it  cannot  extend  to  the 
future.  But  the  idea  of  religious  instinct  must  necessarily 
be  different  from  this.  It  must  include  the  law  of  progress, 
which  we  suppose  to  apply  to  all  spiritual  things."  .  .  . 

"  What  are  our  intuitions  ?  The  persuasions  of  truth 
which  we  entertain,  that  are  not  derived  from  a  foreign 
source,  nor  through  a  process  of  reflection.  ...  I  am  doubt- 
ful of  the  merit  of  these  intuitive  perceptions.  They  may  be 
beautiful  .angels  hovering  over  us  and  guiding  us  upward  to 
heavenly  truth,  but  they  float  around  us  in  so  heavy  a  cloud 
of  mist  that  their  forms  can  hardly  be  discerned.  .  .  .  With 
each  of  us,  of  course,  these  persuasions,  as  they  may  be  enter- 
tained, have  authority.  I3ut  how  do  we  know  that  they  are 
not  erroneous  ?  That  they  often  are  erroneous  is  shown  by 
the  fact  that  different  persons  entertain  opposite  persuasions, 
each  of  tliem  alleging  intuitive  perception  of  the  truth;  and 
by  the  farther  fact  that  the  same  person  in  the  course  of  his 
life  will  change  the  persuasions  which  for  a  long  time  he  may 
have  held  on  this  kind  of  evidence.  Intuitions,  wdiatever 
they  ought  to  be  according  to  the  theory,  are  not  in  ex- 
perience invariable.  .  .  .  Besides  this,  it  is  next  to  impossible, 
in  the  human  mind,  to  separate  what  are  called  intuitions 
from  the  ideas  and  habits  of  thought  produced  by  education, 
early  association,  and  the  influences  of  society.  ...  In  flict, 
the  language  with  which  many  persons  are  captivated  is  de- 
ceptive. The  three  fundamental  ideas  of  which  it  is  said  the 
soul  is  conscious  are  God,  the  moral  law,  and  immortality. 
Yet  the  soul  can  only  be  conscious  of  its  own  exercises 
and  of  its  present  state.  Its  faith  in  God,  or  in  immortality, 
or  even  in  duty,  can  be  nothing  more  than  an  inference 
from  certain  flicts  of  wliieU  it  is  cognizant,  and  which  it 
brings  together  in  such  a  manner  as  to  deduce  from  them  a 
result  with  which  it  is  satisfied;  so  that  its  knowledge  or 


1838-1852.]    3IID-DAY:  KEEPING    THE  FAITH.        227 

persuasion  of  the  highest  truths  is  secured  through  a  pro- 
cess of  reasoning,  not  through  the  affirmation  of  an  intuitive 
faculty.  ... 

"If  we  trust  to  intuitive  evidence  for  our  religious  con- 
victions, we  shall  find  that  it  is  too  much  like  building  our 
anticipations  of  the  weather  upon  the  signs  of  the  sky.  A 
few  signs  God  has  put  there  for  the  help  of  our  judgment, 
and  to  a  certain  extent  they  are  useful ;  yet  how  difierently 
will  they  be  read  by  different  observers!  .  .  .  History  lends 
but  little  support  to  the  intuitive  philosophy.  Collectively, 
the  human  race  has  shown  an  inaptitude  to  discover  or  re- 
tain the  great  religious  truths.  Still  less  encouragement,  if 
possible,  does  a  study  of  individual  experience  furnish ;  for 
but  few  men  perceive  the  handwriting  of  God  on  the  walls 
of  their  OAvn  spiritual  being,  or  evolve  eternal  truth  from 
their  own  mental  conceptions.  .  .  . 

"  Our  age  has  gone  too  far  on  this  path  of  a  transcen- 
dental i^hilosophy.  That  certain  fundamental  or  elementary 
truths  of  religion  find  their  sanction  either  in  ultimate  facts 
of  our  being,  or  in  processes  of  the  most  rigid  reasoning,  or 
in  both,  we  do  not  deny.  The  existence  and  perfection  of 
God,  for  instance,  must  be  proved  before  we  can  begin  to 
think  of  a  revelation  from  Him.  But  all  religious  truth 
which  it  is  important  that  we  should  know  cannot  be  dis- 
covered by  means  of  the  reasoning  or  the  intuitive  faculty. 
There  are  great  truths  which  must  be  revealed,  before  we  can 
receive  them  with  an  entire  confidence.  They  present  them- 
selves to  the  mind  as  conjectures,  probabilities,  hopes,  till 
they  are  incorporated  into  our  positive  belief  by  the  force  of 
external  testimony.  Mr.  Parker  makes  religious  faith  to  rest 
upon  three  classes  of  facts,  —  fiicts  of  necessity,  of  conscious- 
ness or  intuition,  and  of  demonstration.  Xow  the  facts  of 
necessity  do  not  embrace  all  the  wants  of  the  soul;  for  that 
God  should  be  merciful  to  the  extent  which  our  situation 
demands,  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  fact  or  *  truth  of  necessity.' 
Neither  is  the  doctrine  of  Divine  forgiveness  included  among 


228  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1838-1852. 

the  facts  of  consciousness  or  intuition.  Nor  yet  among  the 
facts  of  demonstration,  for  these  are  such  as  follow  by  way  of 
inference  from  the  two  other  classes;  and  where  there  are  no 
premises,  there  can  be  no  inferences.  Upon  this  momentous 
doctrine  of  the  Gospel  therefore,  if  the  Gospel  had  not  spoken, 
we  should  have  had  no  sufficient  ground  of  faith.  ...  In  re- 
gard, again,  to  the  purpose  and  results  of  the  present  life,  it  is 
Christianity  which  expounds  these  in  such  a  manner  as  satis- 
fies the  anxious  inquiries  of  the  soul.  Men  indeed  believed 
in  immortality  before  Christ  appeared  to  give  them  instruc- 
tions, but  their  faith  was  either  unsteady  in  its  character  or 
material  in  respect  to  the  objects  of  its  contemj^lation.  Men 
may  now  collect  arguments  for  belief  in  a  future  life  from 
the  domains  of  philosophy,  but  they  forget  how  much  the 
force  of  such  arguments  upon  their  minds  depends  on  the 
influence  which  Christianity  has  insensibly  exerted  over 
their  judgments  and  associations  ever  since  their  birth. 
Those  persons  who  speak  of  Christian  truths  as  necessary 
parts  of  human  belief,  when  the  spiritual  nature  of  man  has 
reached  a  certain  stage  of  progress,  overlook  the  part  which 
Christianity  has  borne  in  bringing  the)72  to  this  stage." 

'•  The  inference,  then,  which  we  must  draw,  is  that  religion 
is  an  altogether  distinct  thing  from  an  intuitive  perception 
of  certain  religious  truths.  What  we  want  in  religion  is 
certamty^  —  moral,  not  reasoning  or  mathematical  certainty, 
but  the  higliest  degree  of  certainty  which  can  apply  to  moral 
doctrines.  Therefore  what  we  want  to  believe  in  regard  to 
the  teachings  of  Jesus  is  that  they  were  of  absolute  authority, 
and  not  matters  of  reasoning  or  inference.  The  assurance  of 
this  we  have  in  his  own  language.  lie  does  not  say,  '  Thus 
it  is  said,'  but  'I  say  unto  you,'  —  a  positive  distinct  enuncia- 
tion of  what  he  wishes  to  declare.  We  must  rest  upon  mir- 
acles, because  there  is  nothing  else,  no  other  authority  in  the 
nature  of  things,  on  which  Ave  can  base  our  reliance  in  Chris- 
tianity as  an  institution  from  Heaven.  To  every  sensible 
Chi'istian  man,  as  we  conceive,  they  must  be  the  strong,  im- 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:  KEEPING    THE  FAITH.        229 

movable,  imperishable  prop  of  his  belief,  the  foundation  rock 
on  which  his  faith  in  Christ,  as  a  teacher  sent  from  God, 
must  be  built.  Without  thera  the  religious  truths  which  we 
embrace  lose  their  character  of  certainty,  their  value  as  the 
stand  on  which  we  plant  our  faith  and  from  which  our  minds 
derive  hope  and  the  assurances  of  peace." 

Ifow  should  Mr.  Parker  he  treated  by  Unitarians?  — 
"Let  him  be  treated  as  any  other  propagator  of  what  are 
deemed  erroneous  and  injurious  opinions  should  be  treated. 
Shall  he  be  persecuted?  No.  Calumniated?  No.  Put 
down?  No;  if  by  this  phrase  be  signified  the  use  of  any 
other  than  fair  and  gentle  means  of  curtailing  his  influence. 
Shall  he  be  silenced,  or  be  tolerated?  Not  tolerated:  for 
the  exercise  of  toleration  implies  the  right  to  restrain  the 
expression  of  opinion  by  force ;  but  the  validity  of  such  a 
right  cannot  be  admitted  in  this  country,  and  should  not 
be  allowed  in  the  Christian  Church.  Nor  silenced,  unless 
open  argument  and  paternal  persuasion  may  reduce  him  to 
silence.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  should  not  be  encouraged 
nor  assisted  in  diffusing  his  opinions  by  those  who  differ 
from  him  in  regard  to  their  correctness.  No  principle  of 
liberality  or  charity  can  require  any  one  to  aid  in  the  diffu- 
sion of  what  he  accounts  error,  especially  if  he  think  it 
pernicious  error.  Neither  directly  nor  indirectly  may  he, 
in  justice  to  his  own  persuasions,  promote  the  purposes  of 
another  who  wishes  to  divert  public  confidence  from  those 
persuasions.  We  cannot  understand  that  impartiality  of 
mind  which  is  as  desirous  that  one  opinion  as  another  should 
be  brought  before  the  community.  ...  If  Mr.  Parker  had 
confined  himself  to  the  inculcation  of  his  positive  opinions, 
silence  might  then  have  been  the  only  needed  intimation  of 
dissent.  .  .  .  But  so  long  as  be  considers  it  his  duty  to  under- 
mine the  foundations  on  which  the  faith  of  the  multitude 
rests,  and  justly  rests,  so  long  do  we  conceive  it  is  both 
proper  and  incumbent  upon  those  who  differ  from  him  to 
express  their  difference  in  frank  and  strong  terms. 


230  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1838-1852. 

"In  similar  terms,  we  say,  let  him  speak  who  espouses 
opinions  which  we  consider  nntrne  and  dangerous.  He 
holds  oitr  views  to  be  untruo  and  harmful.  Let  him  say  so. 
But  let  not  silence  be  imposed  on  us,  whilst  the  freest  speech 
is  claimed  for  him.  .  .  .  Christian  liberality  let  no  one  neg- 
lect to  cherish  in  himself,  and  Christian  liberty  let  no  one 
attempt  to  wrest  from  another. 

"  Cases  may  possibly  arise  in  the  application  of  these  prin- 
ciples which  will  present  some  difficulty.  Is  not  the  liberty 
of  him  who  is  placed  under  any  kind  of  exclusion  violated, 
it  is  asked,  and  are  not  the  principles  of  Christian  liberality 
disregarded,  when  the  pulpits  of  other  ministers  are  closed 
against  him  ?  We  think  not.  .  .  .  By  withholding  from  our 
neighbor  the  opportunity  of  using  our  pulpit  for  the  propaga- 
tion of  wdiat  we  regard  as  error,  we  merely  say  that  we  con- 
sider it  error,  and  do  not  wish  to  help  in  its  diffusion ;  and 
this  we  may  say,  and  ought  to  say,  not  only  indirectly  by 
such  an  act,  but  in  the  most  direct  and  unequivocal  terms. 
Our  neighbor  doubtless  expresses  elsewhere  the  same  opinion 
respecting  our  discourses ;  and,  if  he  is  an  honest  man,  he  will 
be  very  likely  to  express  his  opinion  in  our  pulpit.  There 
are  those  who  think  it  is  as  well  that  people  should  some- 
times listen  to  what  is  unsound  in  doctrine.  We  are  not  of 
this  way  of  thinking,  for  we  believe  that  truth  is  always 
better  than  error ;  and,  to  repeat  the  familiar  but  pertinent 
remark,  Avhat  each  man  accounts  the  truth  stands  to  him  as 
the  absolute  truth,  and  demands  from  him  the  same  loyal  ser- 
vice, and  therefore  we  esteem  it  a  minister's  duty  to  present 
to  his  people,  not  only  in  his  own  preaching,  but  also  through 
him  whom  he  may  introduce  into  his  pulpit,  what  he  himself 
believes,  and  not  what  he  disbelieves.  If  we  are  wrong  in 
this  decision,  all  that  can  be  charged  upon  us  is  timidity,  not 
exclusiveness. 

"  But  it  is  contended  that  this  is  receding  from  the  ground 
taken  by  the  denomination  to  which  we  belong  nearly  thirty 
years  ago,  when  the  division  arose  between  the  Orthodox 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:   KEEPING    THE  FAITH         231 

and  the  Unitarian  portions  of  the  Congregational  Church 
in  this  Commonwealth.  Possibly  it  is.  We  think,  however, 
that  the  ground  of  complaint  against  the  Orthodox  at  that 
time  for  refusing  to  exchange  with  Unitarians  was  that  they 
considered  us  as  denying  what  was  essential  to  salvation, 
and  therefore  regarded  our  teaching  as  not  only  unsound, 
but  fatal.  We  remonstrated  against  this  as  a  judgment  alto- 
gether too  harsh,  and  therefore  maintained  that  the  separa* 
tion  which  it  induced  was  unrighteous.  .  .  .  But  we  do  not 
remember  that  we  have  ourselves  ever  felt  any  disposition  to 
complain  of  Trinitarian  ministers  for  excluding  us  from  their 
pulpits.  We  certainly  should  not  seek  an  exchange  with  a 
Unitarian,  if  we  believed  in  the  Trinity.  We  do  not  desire 
an  exchange  now  with  one  who  accepts  that  doctrine,  for  we 
have  no  wish  to  convert  the  Christian  pulpit  into  the  arena  of 
a  gladiatorial  theology.  .  .  .  Our  present  system  is  best  suited 
both  to  promote  the  improvement  of  the  congregations  and 
to  preserve  kindly  feelings  among  the  clergy. 

"Some  persons,  verging  to  the  other  extreme,  demand 
much  more  than  the  exclusion  from  their  pulpits,  by  his 
brethren,  of  him  who  makes  it  his  object  to  spread  what  they 
deem  false  and  hurtful  opinions.  They  require  that  he  be 
cast  out  from  the  professional  sympathies  of  those  with  whom 
he  has  been  associated,  and  that  a  rebuke  be  administered 
to  him  by  some  formal  act  of  the  denomination  to  which  he 
has  been  considered  as  belonging.  ...  Is  it  said,  as  a  reason 
for  such  action,  that  the  denomination  are  responsible  for  the 
opinions  advanced  by  one  of  their  number,  unless  they  sub- 
ject him  to  rebuke  or  separate  him  from  their  society  ?  Yes, 
it  is  said ;  and  by  whom  ?  By  those  who  know  that  from 
the  first  we  have  disclaimed  responsibleness  for  each  other's 
opinions,  and  denied,  in  the  most  emphatic  terms,  the  jus- 
tice of  holding  us  under  such  a  responsibleness.  ...  It  is 
not  our  way  to  pass  ecclesiastical  censure.  We  are  willing 
—  at  least,  we  have  said  we  were  willing  —  to  take  the  prin- 
ciple of  free  inquiry  with  all  its  consequences.     There  never 


232  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.  [1838-1852. 

was  a  principle  yet,  intrusted  to  men's  use,  which  has  not 
been  carried  to  extravagant  results.  The  principle  of  phil- 
anthropy, —  of  what  follies  and  mischiefs  has  it  been  made 
the  occasion  !  The  very  fict  that  for  months  the  Unitarians 
have  been  urged  from  without  and  from  within  to  denounce 
or  renounce  Mr.  Parker,  and  yet  have  not  found  out  how  to 
do  it,  shows  that  it  is  strange  work  for  them." 

"  That  in  our  own  number  should  be  found  those  who  com- 
plain because  Mr.  Parker  has  not  been  publicly  censured, 
does  greatly  surprise  us.  .  .  .  We  have  neither  hierarchy  nor 
synod  to  arrange  the  difficulties  of  such  a  case  ;  and,  serious  as 
we  felt  them  to  be,  we  have  never  for  a  moment  regretted  our 
independence  of  such  means  of  abating  a  heresy.  Much  has 
been  said  because  the  Boston  Association  of  ministers  did 
not  expel  Mr.  Parker,  or,  at  least,  publish  some  disavowal  of 
his  opinions.  But  expulsion  of  a  member  for  not  thinking 
with  his  brethren,  however  wrong  his  way  of  thinking,  and 
however  pernicious  the  influence  of  his  teaching  may  be  in 
their  eyes,  is  not  an  act  which  that  Association  contemplate 
among  their  privileges  or  their  duties ;  nor  do  they  come 
together  to  draw  up  statements  of  belief,  either  for  their  own 
benefit  or  for  the  satisfaction  of  others.  All  that  they  could 
consistently  do  was  to  express  to  Mr.  Parker  their  indi- 
vidual views,  and  set  before  him,  in  free  and  friendly  con- 
versation, the  inconsistency  of  his  course  in  continuing  to 
exercise  the  functions  of  a  Christian  minister  while  he  rejected 
the  main  facts  of  the  Christian  Scriptures.  And  this  they 
did.  They  had  no  authority  to  depose  him  from  his  place, 
or  cast  him  out  from  their  company.  They  neither  felt  nor 
showed  indifference  in  the  case.  They  acted  with  firmness, 
and  with  justice  alike  to  him  and  to  themselves,  to  the  cause 
of  Christian  truth  and  the  cause  of  religious  freedom. 
Others  may  see  in  this  a  proof  of  the  wretched  effects  of 
Unitarianism ;  but  we  are  willing  that  Unitarianism  should 
stand  or  fall  by  the  judgment  which  an  unbiassed  observer, 
who  understood  the  merits  of  the  case,  should  pass  upon  the 
course  pursued  towards  Mr.  Parker  by  his  brethren."  .  .  . 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:  KEEPING    THE  EAITH.         233 

"  That  it  is  a  painful  and  anxious  time  through  which  we 
are  passing,  we  do  not  attempt  to  conceal  from  ourselves  or 
from  others.  The  question  at  issue,  as  we  conceive,  is  not 
what  shall  be  the  character  of  the  popular  faith,  but  shall 
our  people  have  any  faith  whatever?  This  is  a  more  im- 
portant question  than  whether  they  shall  believe  in  the 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity  or  the  Apostolic  succession.  Mr. 
Parker  thinks  his  views  will  establish  the  fiith  of  his  hearers 
upon  a  more  solid  foundation  than  that  on  which  it  has 
rested,  and  that,  if  they  should  prevail,  they  would  correct 
much  latent  scepticism.  We  believe  that  in  most  cases  their 
effect,  where  accepted,  will  be  seen  in  a  vague  confidence  in 
religious  truth,  that  after  a  time  will  end  in  the  most  painful 
sense  of  uncertainty  or  in  open  unbelief.  They  will,  doubt- 
less, secure  many  listeners,  and  some  disciples.  Still  we  are 
not  alarmed.  So  far  as  our  own  denomination  is  concerned, 
we  have  little  fear  for  the  result ;  so  fir  as  Christ  and  his 
religion  are  concerned,  none.  Truth  is  stronger  than  error. 
Christianity  is  too  divine  to  be  overthrown  by  the  mistakes 
or  the  denials  of  men.  All  that  is  required  of  us  in  the  pres- 
ent exigencies —  either  as  its  defenders  or  its  disciples  —  is 
to  speak  the  truth  in  love :  '  the  truth,'  for  that  is  what  we 
owe  to  our  Master ;  '  in  love,'  for  that  is  what  we  owe  to  our 
brethren ;  '  speak,'  for  that  is  what  we  owe  to  ourselves." 

The  two  men,  Parker  and  Gannett,  differed  very 
widely  in  other  matters  besides  theology,  —  matters  in 
which  there  was  as  little  muffling  of  opinion  as  in  that. 
Mr.  Parlcer  had  incomparably  the  wider  range  of  knowl- 
edge, and  a  much  more  slashing  and  effective  stroke  in 
all  his  championship.  In  mental  justice  towards  oppo- 
nents, in  careful  fairness  of  stroke,  in  reverence  for  others' 
reverence,  Dr.  Gannett  was  the  superior.  As  to  ear- 
nestness of  conviction,  sincerity  of  speech,  and  self- 
denying  zeal,  Parker  used  the  right  word  in  his  letters, 
—  they  were  brothers.     At  bottom  they  could  not  help 


234  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1838-1852. 

respecting  each  other.  Two  letters  from  the  end  of 
1846  show  the  frankness  of  their  intercourse.  Parker 
had  written  to  ask  if  Dr.  Gannett  were  the  author  of 
a  certain  criticism  on  one  of  his  sermons.  The  latter 
told  him  No,  but  added :  — 

"But  now  as  you  have  addressed  me,  and  with  great 
kindness,  on  the  subject,  let  me  say  that  I  was  sorry  you 
penned  and  uttered  some  of  the  sentences  in  that  discourse. 
They  are  not  worthy  of  yon.  They  give  the  impression,  so 
far  as  I  have  had  any  opportunity  of  hearing  what  j^ersons 
think,  that  you  have  lost  some  part  of  the  amiabihty  which 
all  once  ascribed  to  you.  They  are  taken  as  indications  of  a 
soured  and  irritated  mind.  I  confess  they  have  affected  me 
in  this  way.  You  have  condescended  to  use  taunt  and  insin- 
uation, and  to  go  out  of  your  way  (as  it  seems  to  me)  to 
give  utterance  to  personal  feeling.  I  wish  you  would  drop 
this  style  of  remark,  and  go  straightforward  in  the  prosecu- 
tion of  the  purposes  you  have  at  heart.  You  can  do  great 
good  in  bringing  many  to  take  an  active  interest  in  Chris- 
tian benevolence.  And  if  you  should  do  harm  (as  I,  of 
course,  must  think  you  will)  by  the  inculcation  of  your 
peculiar  theological  opinions,  yet  I  would  rather  you  should 
do  it  in  a  manner  that  will  leave  your  character  free  from 
the  imputation  of  any  other  than  the  highest  and  purest 
motives. 

"Pardon  me  if  I  have  written  with  too  much  freedom.  I 
believe  you  will  not  misunderstand  me. 

"  Yours  very  truly, 

"  Ezra  S.  Gannett." 

Mr.  Parker's  answer  came  marked  "  Private  "  at  the 
beginning,  and  "  I  beg  j^ou  not  to  show  this  letter,  —  no, 
not  to  your  wife,"  —  at  the  end.  He  knew  that  the 
rebuker  to  whom  he  opened  thus  his  inmost  heart  could 
be  trusted.     But  the  letter  set  in  its  frame  of  privacy 


1838-1852.]    MID-DAY:  KEEPING    THE  FAITH.        235 

reads  so  noblj,  that,  with  all  these  years  between,  it 
seems  right  to  decide  anew  the  question  of  showing  it. 
At  least,  so  think  they  who  would  be  most  careful  of 
the  writer's  wish. 

"  West  Roxbdry,  Dec.  19,  1846. 

"  Dear  Sir,  —  I  am  glad  to  find  that  you  did  not  write 
the  article  in  the  '  Christian  Register;*  and,  if  you  did  not,  my 
end  is  answered,  and  I  care  little  who  did.  I  thank  you  for 
the  remarks  you  make  about  myself  in  the  letter.  I  like 
the  frankness  and  plainness  with  which  you  speak,  and  both 
honor  and  thank  you  for  it.  You  are  the  only  one  of  the 
ministers  who  ever  came  and  told  me  of  a  wrong-doing  in 
my  course.  Had  others  done  so,  I  should  have  been  glad ; 
as  it  is,  I  am  almost  wholly  without  counsel  from  the  clerical 
body.  Fas  est  et  ab  hoste  doceri,  how  much  more  ab 
amico?  .  .  . 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  will  believe  what  I  say,  but  /  know 
it  is  true,  that  I  have  never  printed  or  preached  one  line 
which  any  feeling  of  ill-will  or  sourness  has  sullied  in  the 
faintest  degree.  I  know  many  would  misunderstand  it ;  but 
I  know  that  God  would  not ;  that  I  did  not ;  that  the  few 
noblest  Hearts,  which  with  me  are  far  more  weighty  than  a 
world's  applause  or  a  world's  scorn,  would  also  understand 
it.  When  I  was  a  boy,  I  used  to  think  that  Christ  was  angry 
with  persons  when  he  said  those  dreadful  things  in  the  Gos- 
pels ;  that  he  felt  a  little  soured  at  their  malignant  opposition. 
As  I  lived  more,  I  saw  it  was  not  so.  Yet  the  men  who 
heard  them  said  he  had  a  devil.  Now  don't  say  I  am  com- 
paring myself  with  Christ.  I  only  mean  to  say  that  it  was 
unavoidable  he  should  be  mistaken ;  and  if  he,  why  not  so 
little  a  man  as  I  am? 

"  Now  I  have  sometimes  suspected  you  of  saying  things 
in  ill-temper,  —  yes,  of  saying  them  against  me.  ...  If  you 
tell  me  you  had  no  such  motive,  I  think  I  shall  believe  you. 
Yet  I  don't  ask  you  to  do  so,  —  certainly  I  would  not  for 


236  EZRA    STILES    GANNETT.         [183S-1852. 

my  own  sake.  The  things  which  sound  so  hard  when  I  say 
them  or  print  them  are  said  wholly  in  sorrow^  not  at  all  in 
anger.  I  weep  when  I  write  them.  I  wrestle  with  myself 
afterwards,  say  I  cajiH  say  them,  I  loon^t;  but  an  awful  voice 
of  conscience  says,  Wlio  art  thou  that  darest  to  disobey  thy 
Duty!  So  I  say  them,  though  it  rends  my  heart.  Trust 
me,  I  feel  no  sourness,  no  disappointed  ambition.  I  saw  long 
ago  what  my  course  was  to  bo,  and  submitted  cheerfully, 
joyfully.  I  hope  to  do  my  duty;  though  I  know  thnt  the 
more  faithfully  I  do  it,  the  more  shall  I  be  blamed.  Yet  I 
foresee  great  future  good  to  come  to  men  through  what  I  am 
called  on  to  do  and  to  pass  through.  When  my  tears  flow 
no  longer,  when  the  grass  grows  over  my  level  grave,  when 
my  name  has  perished  from  amongst  men,  the  hearts  of  men 
shall  flame  with  the  truths  that  I  have  tried  to  teach. 
Others  shall  reap  where  I  have  only  mown  down  the  thorns, 
and  that  with  lacerated  arms,  men  calling  me  destroyer.,  ill- 
tempered.,  and  all  that.  These  things  I  count  nothing.  I  do 
not  ask  even  you  to  do  me  justice :  I  know  God  will.  If  I 
have  hard  things  to  say,  I  must  say  them,  —  not  that  I 
would. 

"  I  beg  you  not  to  show  this  letter  to  any  one, — no,  not  to 
your  wife.  Truly  your  friend, 

«  Theo.  Parker." 

This   account   of   their  —  friendship,  shall  we   say  ? 

hardly  that  —  shall  close  with  the  good-by  which  Mr. 

Parker   sent  from   his   sick-bed,   a   hurried  pencilling, 

mailed  February  3,  the  very  day  on  which  he  left  the 

house  in  Exeter  Place  for  Santa  Cruz  and  Italy  and 

death :  — 

_  ^  "  Boston,  Feb.  1859. 

"Kev.  Dr.  Gannett. 

"Dear  Sir, — I  don't  know  when  I  shall  see  you  again, — 

with  the  mortal  bodily  eyes  perhaps  never.     Hence  this  poor 

scrawl  with  a  pencil.     In  your  sermons  which  I  used  to  hear 


183S-1852.]     MID-DAY:  KEEPING    THE   FAITH.        237 

in  earlier  life,  either  at  Watertown  or  at  Boston  or  else- 
where, you  spoke  words  which  sank  deep  into  my  heart, 
helping  to  quicken  the  life  of  pious  feeling  which  I  think  had 
never  slumbered  there.  I  write  now  to  thank  you  for  the 
good  words  spoken  then.  Let  me  also  say  that  ever  since 
I  have  admired  the  self-denying  zeal  with  which  you  have 
worked  in  your  profession,  while  so  many  slept,  and  felt 
therein  an  encouragement.  Believe  me,  with  earnest  grati- 
tude, Yours  truly, 

"Theodore  Parker." 


We  return  to  the  home-life.  For  the  summer  a  sea- 
side home  had  been  discovered,  a  little  fishing-village 
whose  houses  straggled  along  the  rocky  shore  of  Cape 
Ann's  farthest  point.  Only  two  or  three  of  the  city- 
folk  had  found  it  out  besides  himself,  and  for  half  a 
dozen  years  they  had  it  almost  to  themselves.  All  was 
quiet  and  queer  and  old.  One  house  still  had  its  upper 
story  jutting  over  the  lower,  as  it  had  been  built,  the 
legend  said,  for  protection  against  the  Indians  ;  and  on  a 
seaward  hill-top,  amid  a  desert  of  big  boulders,  gaped  the 
half -filled  cellars  of  the  early  Cape  settlers,  dating  back 
to  the  same  primeval  days.  Thick  woods  lay  between 
the  fringe  of  habitation  on  the  shore  and  Gloucester 
further  inland.  The  people,  like  ocean-islanders,  had  a 
certain  sea-flavor  of  their  own.  One  summer-da}^  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Gannett,  while  riding  round  the  Cape,  espied, 
behind  a  red-barred  gate,  a  room}^  farm-yard  green  to 
the  door  of  the  sun-browned  house  which  lay  so  well  back 
from  the  road.  Hard  by  a  great  barn  stretched,  the 
patriarch  of  a  group  of  small  out-buildings,  round  Avhich 
there  drowsed  and  stirred  the  lazy  barn-yard  families. 
Beyond  in  the  sunshine  were  two  or  three  green  fields, 
beyond  them  the  blue  ocean.     All  had  a  look  as  of 


238  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1838-1852. 

wide  space,  slow  time,  and  simple,  ancient  ways.  Here 
was  an  ideal  found  real !  They  ventured  in,  begging 
leave  to  stay.  "  Pa  Babson  "  demurred,  but  "  Ma'am 
Babson "  said  Yes,  and  that  decided.  Once  in,  chey 
came  back,  sure  of  a  welcome,  for  a  few  weeks  of  every 
summer.  '"  The  Babsons  are  the  same  hospitable  peo- 
ple as  ever,  and  the  neighbors  I  like  very  much."  To 
the  children  the  "  Old  Farm  "  was  the  summer's  para- 
dise, the  winter's  dream. 

Broken  weeks  only  were  the  father's  share  of  Para- 
dise. Long  after  the  city  custom  turned,  his  sense  of 
duty  had  effect  to  keep  the  church-doors  open  all  the 
hot  Sundays.  For  the  few  who  wanted  meeting,  he 
must  be  there  to  meet  them.  For  the  very  few  who 
wanted  the  second  service  in  the  afternoon,  he  again 
was  faithful  at  his  post.  Sometimes  a  parishioner  lay 
very  low  in  sickness :  that  was  a  claim  that  took  pre- 
cedence of  all  else  to  keep  or  call  him  back.  But  how 
he  enjoyed  the  short  stays  at  the  farm,  as  he  ran  down 
for  the  two  or  three  days  at  a  time  !  He  was  the  same 
active  doer  here  as  at  home.  "  Doing  "  was  essential  to 
the  fun.  He  revelled  in  putting  things  to  rights,  and  had 
a  gift  for  clearing  up  litters,  slowly,  —  but  so  perfectly  I 
In  the  city  the  recreation  could  be  indulged  in  only  in 
the  garret  or  the  cellar  and  the  wood-shed.  As  no  one 
else  would  keep  those  places  in  proper  order,  he  must, 
—  he  used  to  say  ;  and  his  tone  of  satisfaction  in  calling 
the  family  to  behold  his  triumphs  of  cleanliness  and 
beauty  in  ungainly  spots,  and  the  architectural  finish  of 
his  wood-pile,  was  very  droll.  Those  da3^s  were  rather 
dreaded  in  the  household.  He  always  wanted  com- 
panionship in  this,  as  in  all  other  interests ;  and  large 
were  the  moral,  besides  the  pecuniary,  benefits  result- 
ing to  the  stray  boys  and  men  of  whom  he  made  allies. 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:  KEEPING    THE  FAITH.       239 

One  of  them  thought  that,  *' if  he  could  always  work 
under  a  boss  like  the  old  gentleman,  he  should  not  care 
particular  about  drinking."  In  the  countrj,^  his  genius 
had  wider  scope.  Now  a  stile  was  to  be  made  in  the 
pasture-wall,  now  the  kitchen-steps  needed  smoother 
flag-stones,  and  each  summer  the  whole  chip-strewn 
corner  by  the  Avood-pile  must  be  cleared  from  the 
accumulations  of  a  year.  The  farm-people  laughed  as 
they  helped  their  limping  reformer.  Every  one  knew 
him,  liked  him.  In  such  little  betterments,  in  arrang- 
ing picnics,  —  at  which  the  more  the  merrier,  —  in  talks 
with  the  country-folk,  and  notably  with  one  "  Farmer 
Knowlton,"  the  Tom  Paine  of  the  village,  who  loved 
to  pose  the  city-parsons  with  searching  Bible-questions, 
he  spent  the  days  between  the  stage-rides  homewards. 

Aug.  15,  1844.  "After  dinner  (it  was  a  genuine  country- 
picnic)  we  had  singing  and  dancing  by  the  help  of  a  fiddle 
well  played.  I  have  not  for  a  long  time  been  so  conscious 
of  enjoyment.  What  a  contrast  to  the  affectation,  display, 
and  conventionalism  of  life  in  the  city !  All  good-tempered, 
free,  and  simple." 

October  2.  "  Another  delightful  day.  Worked  in  the  yard 
spreading  sand  on  the  new  path,  and  fixing  steps  to  the 
back-door.  In  the*  barn  with  the  children  to  husk  corn. 
Then  I  walked  alone  to  the  Cove  and  home  through  the  fields, 
lay  under  the  oak-trees,  and  enjoyed  the  day,  the  scene,  and 
the  associations  excessively.  I  am  almost  unwilling  to  enjoy 
so  much." 

October  4.  "  We  have  most  abundant  reason  for  gratitude. 
Why  am  I  so  much  blessed  ?  It  seems  as  if  the  Divine  Prov- 
idence was  hiboring  to  win  me  from  my  insensibility  by  its 
incessant  bounty." 

Each  year  the  place  grew  dearer.  No  previous  visit 
had  been  so  pleasant  as  that  in  the  summer  of  1846. 


240  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1838-1852. 

"  Anna  has  gained  strength,  and  the  children  have 
not  had  a  sick  day.  We  have  returned  home  well, 
and  find  all  well.  Let  us  be  grateful,  tranquil,  and 
dutiful."  After  that  season  Rockport  became  memo- 
rial ground. 

1846,  December  22.  "Brought  home  New  Year's  presents 
for  the  children  for  Anna  to  see.  Sat  up  preparing  'Intelli- 
gence' for  the  'Examiner.'  Between  1  and  2  o'clock  I  fell 
asleep  in  my  chair,  and  was  waked  by  Anna  coming  into  the 
study  at  3  o'clock  to  ask  me  if  I  was  not  going  to  bed.  I 
told  her  I  must  finish  what  I  was  doing,  and  sat  up  an  hour 
longer." 

December  23.  "Came  home  fi'om  Cambridge  printing- 
office  in  8  o'clock  omnibus,  found  Anna  sitting  in  the  j^arlor, 
writing  at  her  work-table,  bright  and  cheerful.  She  read 
proofs  of  'Examiner'  with  me,  and  went  to  bed  at  eleven 
o'clock." 

There  the  Journal  stops  for  a  week;  and,  when  it 
begins  again,  it  is  crippled  into  one  line  records.  The 
wife,  the  mother,  had  died  on  Christmas  evening. 

"  It  was  a  still  and  solemn  moment,  so  tranquil,  beautifid, 
holy,  that  we  could  not  give  utterance  to  grief.  The  cham- 
ber was  as  still  as  though  no  life  were  in  it.  I  laid  myself, 
almost  involuntarily,  by  her  side,  and  felt  the  calmness, 
whether  of  stoicism  or  of  submission,  I  know  not.  I  felt  the 
influence  of  the  scene.  We  all  felt  it.  It  subdued  and  tran- 
quillized us  all.  She  had  gone,  the  patient  and  suffering  one, 
the  loving  and  faithful  one;  she  had  gone  from  pain  and 
triul,  and  it  seemed  as  if  we  knew  she  was  more  than  at  rest, 
—  she  had  entered  into  a  higher  and  freer  life." 

The  words  are  taken  from  a  book  written  by  him  for 
her  children,  —  written  slowly  with  pages  added  on  the 
Christmases  of  many  years.     It  was  begun  at  — 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:   KEEPING    THE   FAITH.        241 

Rockport,  Sept.  9,  1848.  "I  am  sitting  in  the  chamber 
where  she  spent  so  many  quiet  and  happy  hours,  near  the 
window  from  which  she  looked  upon  her  favorite  view,  the 
western  window  of  the  *  old  farm '  house.  .  .  .  And,  while 
every  thing  reminds  me  of  her,  I  am  more  than  ever  im- 
pressed with  the  features  of  this  scene  as  suited  to  please  her, — 
tranquil  and  beautiful,  with  the  noise  of  the  world  behind  us, 
and  the  quiet  bay,  with  here  and  there  a  little  sail,  stretching 
off  towards  the  setting  sun.  .  .  .  Here  let  me  execute  the 
puri^ose  I  have  so  long  cherished  of  recording  my  recollec- 
tions of  her  last  hours.  Then  will  I  add  the  memorials 
which  attest  the  sympathy  of  those  who  loved  her ;  and  the 
whole  shall  constitute  a  precious  book  for  her  children  and 


Thenceforward  Christmas  was  a  still  and  shadowed 
day  in  the  household  life,  one  which  he  spent  in  the 
seclusion  of  her  room  or  in  the  study,  except  when  he 
went  forth  to  visit  some  friend  in  affliction.  Towards 
nightfall  the  children  used  to  gather  round  him  and 
talk  of  their  mother  and  say  the  hymns  which  she  had 
taught  them,  till  by  and  by  all  knelt  in  prayer  and 
kissed  good-night.  A  shadowed  day,  —  for  death  to 
him  was  a  mystery  that  brought  awe,  resignation,  trust 
in  the  All-Goodness,  but  not  the  feeling  of  an  unseen 
presence  or  bright  sure  visions  of  reunion.  The  mind 
was  truthful  with  itself.  Among  the  words  of  Christ 
—  and  save  from  them  there  shone  no  light  at  all  for 
him  upon  the  mystery  —  were  none  that  promised  glad 
greetings  from  old  friends  ;  and  he  questioned  much 
wdiether  in  their  hastened  progress  and  their  ripened 
powers  they  again  could  be  what  they  had  been  to  those 
who,  for  long  years  perhaps,  might  have  to  tarry  here. 
No  Avonder,  then,  that  the  dear  name  was  ever  after 
uttered  in  a  hush,  and  that,  if  lightly  called,  we  saw  him 

16 


242  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1838-1852. 

shrink  to  silence.  Into  his  love  for  her  there  entered 
that  omnipresent  element  of  loyalty.  Eleven  years 
married  :  the  rest  of  the  seventy  years  wore  by,  and  still 
the  Christmas  memory  was  kept,  and  the  Journals  all 
through  the  years  spring  open  at  many  a  place  where  a 
flower,  fastened  on  the  page,  chronicles  a  pilgrimage  to 
the  Mount  Auburn  grave. 

When  next  he  met  his  people,  who  had  loved  her 
well,  it  was  natural  to  speak  of  her  :  — 

"  The  strength  of  her  character  lay  in  its  moral  integrity. 
Her  devotion  to  the  right  was  almost  marked  with  the  cer- 
tainty of  an  instinct.  It  had  the  force  of  a  law  which  might 
never  be  broken.  What  was  right  must  be  done,  cost  what 
it  would.  This  was  the  deepest  and  steadiest  conviction  of 
her  soul.  To  this  she  ching  through  sickness  and  health, 
through  hope  and  fear,  in  every  season  and  under  all  experi- 
ence. She  dreaded  nothing  in  herself  so  much  as  a  depart- 
ure from  rectitude.  She  shrank  from  nothing  in  others  with 
such  an  instant  disapprobation  as  from  a  similar  departure. 
Falsehood  of  every  kind  was  so  much  her  aversion,  that  she 
would  rather  disappoint  or  offend  by  honesty  than  conciliate 
by  the  slightest  compromise  of  truth.  In  every  exigency  I 
knew  she  could  be  trusted,  even  as  we  trust  the  unchangeable 
laws  of  tlie  Creation  amidst  the  strains  which  overwhelm  the 
earth. 

"To  this  firmness  of  moral  purpose  was  united  an  extreme 
gentleness  of  mind.  The  masculine  in  expression  belonged 
not  to  her.  She  was  a  woman  in  her  whole  constitution  and 
being.  The  delicacy  of  her  sensibilities  was  such  as  could 
be  seen,  I  think  I  may  say,  only  in  one  of  her  sex.  Her 
affections  were  deep  and  true.  Where  she  bestowed  her 
love,  she  gave  all  her  heart.  Yet  even  her  most  partial  or 
intense  affections  could  not  make  her  swerve  from  the  path 
of  duty.  I  know  she  would  have  died  for  them  who  were 
dear  to  her ;  but  I  do  not  believe  she  would  have  done  what 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:  KEEPING   THE  FAITH.        243 

her  soul  told  her  was  wrong,  even  to  gain  their  fondest  grat- 
itude. She  saw  tlieir  faults,  for  the  purity  of  her  moral  sen- 
timent reflected  the  images  which  fell  upon  it  in  their  real 
character ;  and  they  affected  her  with  the  most  painful  emo- 
tions which  she  ever  experienced. 

"  In  her  religious  character  there  was  much  to  interest  as 
well  as  to  satisfy  those  who  enjoyed  her  confidence.  With  a 
natural  inclination  to  the  side  of  doubt  rather  than  of  faith, 
she  had  looked  at  the  great  truths  of  religion  with  the  eye 
of  an  anxious  curiosity.  Years  ago  her  mind  took  hold  of 
the  questions  which  lie  at  the  foundations  of  all  belief,  the 
mighty  questions  of  God  and  revelation.  She  had  toiled 
through  those  questions,  till  her  faith  stood  in  the  conclu- 
sions of  the  understanding,  and  not  in  the  simple  assent  of 
the  feelings.  From  these  questions  she  advanced  to  others 
of  less  magnitude,  but  of  deep  importance.  Providence  pre- 
sented to  her  view  a  scene  which  at  once  perplexed  and 
exercised  her  mind  ;  but  the  progress  which  she  was  making 
through  all  its  difficulties  was  most  beautiful  to  observe.  By 
sure  steps  she  was  reaching  that  solution  of  the  great  problem 
of  life  which  so  many  never  think  of  attempting,  and  so  few 
approach,  which  harmonizes  all  apparent  discordance,  and 
leaves  the  soul  free  for  other  inquiries,  —  a  solution  which 
can  be  reached  only  by  patient  thought. 

"  Of  her  domestic  life  I  dare  not  trust  myself  to  speak." 

From  the  memorial-book  on  different  Christmas 
days : — 

"  She  had  calmly  prepared  for  the  event  of  her  illness.  A 
box  was  found  containing  all  her  New  Year's  presents  for 
the  different  members  of  the  family,  carefully  arranged,  and 
with  the  address  of  each  in  her  own  handwriting ;  a  charac- 
teristic example  of  the  forethought  and  method  and  faithful 
attendance  to  every  duty  which  distinguished  her." 

Dec.  25,  1848.  "  I  tliink  I  never  felt  a  disposition  to  com- 
plain of  the  Providence  that  had  afflicted  me,  or  to  doubt 


244  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1838-1852. 

the  goodness  of  God  ;  and  I  know  that  it  was  from  trust  in 
His  perfect  will,  rather  than  from  any  hope  concerning  a 
future  life,  that  I  drew  what  comfort  I  obtained.  Immor- 
tality was  a  fact  which  I  recognized  in  all  my  meditations, 
but  it  was  from  the  presence  and  rectitude  of  the  Heavenly 
Father  that  I  derived  whatever  support  my  faith  gave  me. 
One  phase  of  this  experience  I  distinctly  remember.  Per- 
haps a  week,  perhaps  longer,  after  the  separation,  a  sense 
of  mystery  began  to  swallow  up  my  other  feelings.  Every 
thing  seemed  to  be  enveloped  in  impenetrable  mystery,  and 
the  burthen  grew  upon  my  heart  till  it  was  almost  insupport- 
able, and  I  was  obliged  to  force  my  thoughts  into  some  other 
channel  lest  it  should  entirely  overpower  me.  The  first, 
inevitable  feeling  of  desolation  was  scarcely  more  dreadful 
than  this  oppression  of  the  mysterious^  which  seemed  to  en- 
viron and  pervade  life.  I  also  remember  that,  when  I  first 
walked  through  the  street  after  the  event,  it  seemed  to  me 
strange  that  people  should  be  going  on  in  their  employments 
as  usual.  A  feeling  of  surprise  was  awakened,  and  I  seemed 
to  myself  to  have  expeeted  that  every  one  would  look  on  life 
with  as  different  a  judgment  as  I  was  passing  upon  it.  The 
Bible  I  found  to  be  the  only  book  that  I  cared  to  read : 
other  books  interested  me  very  little.  Even  hymns  did  not 
meet  my  want.  They  were  either  too  cold  or  too  poetical : 
simplicity  and  sentiment  were  lost  in  studying  expression. 
But  the  Bible,  particularly  the  Psalms,  appeared  to  have 
been  written  for  me.  AVonderful  was  the  adaptation  of  their 
language  to  my  case.  I  never  before  knew  how  much  the 
Bible  meant,  nor  how  near  it  came  to  the  heart,  how  true 
and  exact  a  transcript  it  gave  of  human  experience." 

Dec.  25,  1851.  "  The  completeness  of  the  separation 
seems  to  me  strange.  As  I  do  not  believe  that  we  have  any 
instruction  which  justifies  us  in  supposing  we  can  hold  the 
least  intercourse  with  the  departed,  this  entire  cessation  of  a 
reciprocal  dependence,  which  was  once  so  intimate,  does  not 
explain  itself  to  my  mind.     *  It  must  be  so,'  am  I  told  ?    I 


1838-1852.]    MID-DAY:  KEEPING  , THE  FAITH.         245 

answer, '  It  is  so,  but  why  need  it  have  been  so  ?  Why  could 
not  God  have  permitted  us  to  have  some  knowledge  of  those 
who  have  left  us,  and  to  enjoy  to  some  extent  still  their 
society?'  It  has  pleased  Him  wholly  to  withdraw  them 
from  our  communion,  and  I  doubt  not  that  He  has  done  what 
is  right  and  best;  but  I  do  not  see  that  it  is  best,  and  I  con- 
fess that  at  times  there  seems  to  me  to  be  something  violent 
and  unnatural  in  the  sudden  and  total  extinction  of  inter- 
course. The  reasons  that  suggest  themselves  to  the  mind 
for  such  a  disruption  of  dear  habits  are  not  strong  enough  to 
overpower  the  feeling  that  some  degree  of  intercourse  might 
still  be  permitted.  We  must  walk  through  the  perplexities 
of  this  subject  by  faith,  not  by  sight. 

"  I  am  again  reminded  of  the  influence  which  the  memory 
of  her  character  and  her  affection  ought  to  have  on  me. 
Why  am  I  not  more  as  she  would  wish  me  to  be,  if  she  were 
here  ?  Let  me  act  more  under  the  persuasion  of  her  love 
and  her  life.  She  loathed  all  insincerity :  let  not  me  deal 
dishonestly  with  others  or  with  myself.  She  was  faithful  in 
the  discharge  of  every  duty :  let  me  not  be  dilatory  or  neg- 
lectful. God  help  me  to  do  better  the  next  year,  if  I  should 
live,  than  I  have  done  these  last  months !  God  help  me  to 
be  faithful  to  my  children  and  to  my  own  soul ! " 

Dec.  25,  1854.  "Eight  years  have  passed,  and  this  anni- 
versary renews  the  question,  —  Am  I  better  for  the  discipline 
God  laid  on  me  ?  Alas  !  no.  Yet  I  long  for  the  f  lith,  the 
peace,  the  humility,  and  the  self-control,  into  which  it  was 
His  purpose  to  lead  me.  I  do  not,  however,  believe  that  we 
can  explain  a  bereavement,  or  any  form  of  human  suflering 
(but,  least  of  all,  death),  by  tracing  the  moral  or  spiritual 
benefit  it  may  yield.  During  the  last  year  the  truth  has 
presented  itself  to  my  mind  with  special  force,  that  the 
providence  of  an  Infinite  Being  must  embrace  details  and 
connections  which  we  cannot  understand.  A  providence 
which  our  faculties  could  measure  would  not  be  divine. 
God,  arrangi\ig  the  plan  of  human  experience  for  all  of  us 


246  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1838-1852. 

through  the  whole  existence  of  each  one  of  us,  must  have 
taken  into  this  plan  numberless  events  which  we  should  have 
had  neither  the  foresight  nor  the  breadth  of  view  to  include. 
While  we  know  that  'the  very  hairs  of  our  head  are  all 
numbered,'  and,  therefore,  nothing  can  be  outside  of  the 
Divine  Providence,  in  countless  instances  His  providence 
must  take  effect  in  a  way  to  confound  our  judgment.  In 
the  events  that  surprise  and  disappoint  us,  in  the  afflictions 
particularly  that  seem  to  us  so  strange,  I  find  a  proof  that 
our  lives  are  cared  for,  over-ruled,  and  guided  by  a  wisdom 
and  a  love  higher  than  ours,  and  discover  the  justification 
of  faith  as  well  as  the  need  of  it  in  the  most  distressful 
occurrences.  It  would  be  difficult  to  believe  that  all  which 
happens  to  us  is  under  God's  tender  oversight,  if  it  were  all 
within  the  solution  of  human  faculties."  ,  ,  . 

There  were  three  children  when  the  mother  died, 
eight,  six,  and  four  years  old.  Most  conscientiously 
the  father  accepted  the  new  responsibility,  striving  to 
be  father  and  mother  both ;  and  all  through  the  shap- 
ing years  the  mother's  sister  so  filled  the  empty  place 
with  loving  care  that  they  hardly  knew  their  loss. 


Just  before  the  Christmas  day  he  had  begun  another 
course  of  Sunday  evening  lectures,  this  time  upon  the 
"  Contents  of  the  Scripture."  Again  the  chuich  was 
more  than  crowded  ;  and  again  the  fluent  talk  ran  on 
long  past  the  hour,  filling  nearly  a  broadside  in  two  of 
the  city  papers.  He  maintained  a  theory  of  Inspiration 
that  bore  as  hard  against  the  Intuitionalists  on  the  one 
hand,  as  against  the  Literalists  on  the  other :  — 

.  .  .  "  I  read  and  reread  these  affirmations  with  amaze- 
ment. The  Holy  Spirit  of  God  is  said  to  have  superintended 
the  common  geographical  and  statistical  statements,  so  that 


183S-1852.]    MID-DAY:  KEEPING   THE  FAITH.        247 

there  might  be  no  error !     Why,  error  there  is  ;  undeniable 
error,  in  some  of  these  more  unimportant  statements.  .  .  . 

"I  do  not,  therefore,  deny  the  inspiration  of  the  apostles. 
I  assert  it,  and  wouhl  maintain  it  to  the  last  drop  of  my 
heart's  blood  ;  for,  if  I  give  it  up,  I  give  up  my  faith  in  Christ, 
my  hope  in  heaven.  But  I  maintain  that  it  was  given  in  the 
early  part  of  their  ministry  .  .  .  through  a  twofold  illumi- 
nation,—  through  the  personal  intercourse  enjoyed  with  our 
Lord,  and  through  the  fulfilment  of  his  promise  upon  the 
day  of  Pentecost.  .  .  .  Thus  thoroughly  qualified  to  go  forth 
and  spread  the  fiiith  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  they  were  then 
left,  in  executing  their  work,  whether  as  preachers  or  after- 
wards as  writers,  to  the  unembarrassed,  uncontrolled  exercise 
of  their  intellectual  and  moral  fiiculties.  Their  minds  were 
not  superintended  by  a  force  which  in  any  degree  interfered 
with  the  freedom  of  their  mind's  action.  Their  hearts  and 
consciences  kept  their  memories  faithful  to  the  service  which 
they  undertook."  .  .  . 

Whereupon  the  critics  fell  upon  him,  not  always 
kindly.  Some  one  in  the  "Boston  Recorder"  smote 
him  thus :  — 

"  You  tread  the  path  trodden  by  Celsus,  Voltaire,  Paine, 
and  Theodore  Parker.  .  .  I  see  in  you  an  advocate  of  public 
virtue,  starting  morality  and  truth  from  their  deep  founda- 
tion ;  an  ambassador  to  guilty  men,  rending  your  commission 
before  the  eyes  of  the  disobedient.  .  .  You  have  filled  up 
the  measure  of  Unitarian  unbelief.  .  .  That  system  was  be- 
gotten in  the  pulpit  you  occupy.  The  old  form  of  your  faith 
has  for  a  long  time  been  ready  to  vanish :  what  place  so  fit- 
ting for  its  exit  as  the  place  of  its  birth  ?  How  appropriate 
that  its  author  and  its  finisher  should  both  stand  in  the  same 
pulpit !  .  .  I  have  b^en  struck  with  the  emblem  of  your 
faith  which  is  fixed  in  the  rear  of  that  pulpit.  It  has  the 
form  of  an  anchor.  But  it  resembles  not  that  hope  which 
is  an  anchor  to  the  soul.    The  transverse  beam  in  the  real 


248  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1838-1852. 

anchor  is  so  constructed  that  the  flukes  must  hold :  in  yours, 
the  emblem  is  so  arranged  that  they  cannot  hold,  —  the 
transverse  beam  is  directly  over  the  flukes,  making  the  anchor 
worthless.  An  aj^t  emblem  of  that  hope  which  you  ofier  to 
guilty  men,  without  the  cross  of  Christ."* 

The  crowds  might  come  to  hear  the  lectures,  still 
tlie  condition  of  the  church  was  troubling  him.  One 
after  another  the  old  parishioners  were  dying.  At 
times  the  Journal  reads  like  a  chronicle  of  death,  the 
funerals  follow  each  other  so  closely  through  the  pages. 
And  now  and  then  a  friend  deserted  the  old  pews  for 
the  sake  of  a  fresh  voice.  New  listeners  came,  but  the 
empty  places  were  not  all  made  good  ;  for  the  population 
had  greatly  ebbed  away  from  that  side  of  the  city. 
Forty  years  before,  when  the  church  was  built,  —  even 
twenty  years  before,  when  the  preacher  was  ordained, 
—  the  neighboring  streets  held  Boston's  finest  mansions, 
and  the  flock  lived  all  around  its  Sunday  fold.  But 
the  warehouses  had  steadily  pushed  nearer  and  nearer, 
skirted  with  a  front  of  Irish  settlers,  until,  for  a  large 
part  of  the  parish,  the  Sunday  morning  now  brought 
long  journeys  ;  and  many  persons  had  moved  altogether 
out  of  town.  All  the  old  churches  in  that  part  of  the 
city  suffered  in  the  same  way.  But  in  this  preacher's 
eyes  the  fault  was  his :  he  could  not  preach  as  he  ought, 
he  did  not  work  hard  enough,  with  tact  enough,  with 
ability  enough,  at  the  various  duties  ;  and  he  felt  the 
diminution  sorely. 

Oct.  7,  1840.  " came  to  tell  me  she  was  going  to 

worship  at ,  the  reason  being  tha,t 's  preaching  met 

her  wants  more  than  mine,  as  his  was  '  strengthening,'  while 
mine,  being  addressed  so  much  to  men  as  sinners,  discouraged 
hor.     We  had  a  long,  free,  and  pleasant  conversation." 


1838-1852.]    MID-DAY:  KEEPING    THE  FAITH.        249 

But,  on  account  of  that  conversation,  probably,  — 

"  In  evening,  very  much  depressed  and  disheartened." 
Oct.  5,  1847.  "  Altogether  distressed  and  perplexed  about 
my  ministry.  I  dread  the  winter,  as  its  duties  present  them- 
selves before  me.  The  society  ranst  decHne,  and,  unless  the 
present  tendency  be  arrested,  must  perish.  I  ought,  there- 
fore, clearly  to  leave  my  people.  Yet  I  have  not  the  courage 
to  face  the  mortification,  or  to  meet  the  inconveniences  which 
would  follow  such  a  step.  I  know  I  can  never  have  peace 
of  mind  or  self-approbation  so  long  as  I  stay  here ;  but,  if  I 
go,  what  will  become  of  me  or  my  children  ?  " 

Distressed  and  disheartened  on  that  account,  but  the 
trouble  was  more  real  to  feelings  than  to  facts.  The 
true  secret  Avas  that  the  effect  of  the  European  trip 
had  by  this  time  almost  vanished.  Even  before  the 
sorrow  in  the  home,  the  glow  of  health  began  to  die 
out  of  the  days,  and  the  old  feelings  of  tired  self- 
reproach  were  lurking  near  to  take  their  wonted  place. 
He  felt  that  he  was  growing  old.  When  he  sought  to 
insure  his  life,  the  doctor's  honest  warning  that  old  age 
for  him  would  depend  on  very  cautious  management 
frightened  off  the  Companies.  He  tried  to  "  manage." 
Especially  he  tried  to  begin  the  sermon  on  Monday ; 
and,  if  he  succeeded,  it  was  sure  to  falter,  consume  the 
week,  and  linger  into  the  late  Saturday  midnight,  after 
all.  From  time  to  time  the  sadness  broke  in,  in  a  way 
that  augured  ill  for  years  not  now  far  off.  The  mood 
would  pass,  but  would  return  again  and  yet  again. 
Friends  understood  him :  "  It  Avas  the  weakness  of 
the  flesh."  No  one  knew  him  better  than  Calvin  Lin- 
coln, who  wTote  him,  after  some  earnest  talk  with 
yearning  and  self-accusation  in  it :  "  Your  self-distrust 
arises  from  an  ideal  of  the  true  life  too  exalted  for  the 


250  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1838-1852. 

weakness  of  humanity.  There  must  be  a  deep  principle 
of  piety,  a  deep  well  of  Christian  love,  to  sustain  such 
uniform  activity  in  duty  (as  j^ours),  and  I  cannot  think 
that  3'ou  need  that  entire  prostration  of  soul  before  God 
of  which  we  were  speaking  when  together." 

As  a  fact,  his  harvest  of  influence  both  in  the  city 
and  the  denomination  had  but  begun.  Trust,  and  the 
new  serviceableness  that  comes  throuo^h  trust  and  makes 
the  sweetest  reward  for  faithfulness,  were  his  in  ampler 
measure  now  than  ever  before.  The  officers  of  the 
parish  hushed  him  at  once  when  he  spoke  to  them  of 
the  decline  of  the  congregation,  the  people  passed  reso- 
lutions warm  with  affection  and  gratitude  as  they  strove 
—  and  strove  not  seldom,  but  usually  in  vain  —  to  make 
him  accept  an  increased  salary.  Friends  in  New  York 
were  again  asking  him  to  entertain  the  thought  of 
going  thither,  —  to  whom  he  made  reply  that  the  only 
change  he  could  contemplate  was  to  a  smaller,  not  a 
larger  field.  And  in  1847  he  was  chosen  President  of 
the  American  Unitarian  Association. 

The  early  misgivings  about  organization  had  died 
away  with  the  Fathers.  To  build  up  a  denomination 
was  the  accepted  policy  of  the  second  generation  of 
Unitarians,  and  it  Avas  strengthened  by  the  excitement 
over  Parker's  radicalism.  The  Transcendental  leaven 
was  working  good,  however.  Unitarianism,  having 
passed  its  controversial,  and  being  well  advanced  in  its 
philanthropic  era,  was  now  thought  to  be  on  the  eve  of 
a  spiritual  era.  The  missionary  spirit  grew  yet  more 
earnest,  and  resolve  deepened  to  spread  abroad  the 
gospel  of  pure  Christianity.  The  Association,  just 
come  of  age,  obtained  an  act  of  incorporation  in  1847, 
and  made  ready  for  effective  action.  Early  in  1849  a 
series  of  crowded  meetings  Avas  held  in  Boston,  of  which 


1838-1852.]    MID-DAY:  KEEPING   THE  FAITH.        251 

reports  went  far  and  wide  among  the  churclies.  Not 
long  before  a  new  school  for  ministers  had  been  opened, 
through  the  zeal  of  a  few  friends,  in  the  backwoods  of 
Pennsylvania.  It  was  hoped  that  the  West  would  get  its 
Liberal  prophets  thence.  Let  us  double  the  funds  of  the 
Association  that  we  may  aid  the  students,  that  we  may 
print  our  books,  that  we  may  succor  our  weak  churches, 
that  we  may  send  out  teachers  through  the  land  to  bless 
the  thousands  who  are  yearning  for  our  nobler  faith, : — 
such  was  the  appeal  and  such  the  stout  endeavor. 

Dr.  Gannett  was  the  right  man  to  become  President 
of  the  Association  at  this  time  of  quickening  zeal,  when 
the  higher  ofiScers  were  expected  to  be  no  longer  honor- 
ary associates,  but  working  helpers.  The  memorial  rev- 
erence connected  with  ChanniuGf-'s  church  had  made  it 
in  a  sense  the  mother  meeting-house  of  the  denomina- 
tion, the  homestead  where  the  faithful  naturally  resorted 
for  their  councils;  and  the  heartiness  with  which  its 
living  minister  seconded  every  effort  kept  up  for  many 
years  the  habit  of  resort,  in  spite  of  the  increasing  in- 
convenience of  the  place.  He  was  fertile  in  practical 
suggestions,  untiring  at  watch  and  labor.  A  few  jeors 
before,  his  hand  had  written  the  report  which  led  to  the 
experiment  of  a  Collation  in  Anniversary  Week.  "  The 
only  doubt  has  arisen  from  the  uncertainty  whether  a 
sufScient  number  of  persons,  particularly  of  ladies,  can 
be  obtained  at  this  late  day  to  promise  their  attendance." 
A  few  years  later,  when  it  had  become  the  favorite  Uni- 
tai'ian  festival  of  all  the  week  and  led  to  large  expense, 
he  wrote  the  plan  which  brought  relief.  Among  his 
papers  of  about  this  date  we  find  "  Minutes  of  the 
Committee  on  Missions,"  and  drafts  of  '•'•  Propositions 
for  Licreasing  the  Efficiency  of  the  Association,"  and  of 
a  long  appeal  to  the  public  in  behalf  of  the  general 


252  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1838-1852. 

movement.  Of  course,  he  took  active  part  in  the  meet- 
in2^s  referred  to  above.  When  he  resigned  his  office  in 
1851,  after  four  years'  service,  the  "  Examiner  "  dechared : 
"  Our  cause  owes  more  to  him  than  to  any  one  among 
the  living.  Though  beyond  all  others  of  our  brethren 
he  insists  most  emphatically  upon  Unitarian  distinctions, 
we  do  not  think  that  he  has  ever  made  himself  an 
enemy,  or  lost  the  esteem  of  a  single  individual  among 
the  sects  around  us." 

The  praise  shows  that  he  no  longer  edited  the  maga- 
zine. He  had  given  it  up  two  years  before.  The  ap- 
peals for  special  service  Avere  coming  often  now,  and 
seldom  were  declined  on  any  score  of  business  or  con- 
venience. Doubtless  then,  as  later,  humility  would 
,  urge  its  veto  strongly ;  but,  if  refusal  was  to  throw  real 
labor  on  another's  shoulders,  consent  was  tolerably  sure. 
In  1848  he  preached  the  ''Convention  Sermon"  before 
the  Congregational  ministers  of  Massachusetts,  taking 
for  his  subject  the  ''  Relation  of  the  Pulpit  to  Future 
Time."  Nehemiah  Adams  assured  him,  speaking  for 
his  Orthodox  brethren,  that  there  was  no  word  in  it  to 
which  they  could  not  all  agree.  A  discourse  before  the 
Benevolent  Fraternity  of  Churches,  on  the  "  Object, 
Subjects,  and  Methods  of  the  Ministry  at  Large,"  bears 
the  same  date  ;  and  in  that  year  he  also  took  a  leading 
part  Avith  other  ministers  in  a  movement  against  Licen- 
tiousness. The  next  year  he  preached  the  sermon 
before  the  Ministerial  Conference  on  the  "  Nature  and 
Importance  of  our  Theology,"  — ''  Poor,  poor,"  says 
his  Journal, — and  one  before  the  Fatherless  and 
Widows'  Society.  All  of  these  were  printed.  In  1850 
he  gave  the  address  to  the  Alumni  of  the  Cambridge 
Divinity  School,  on  ''  The  Minister's  Devotedness  to 
his  Work ; "  that   at   the  Normal   School  Reunion  in 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:  KEEPING    THE  FAITH.        253 

West  Newton,  on  "  Education  as  a  Means  of  Establishing 
Woman  in  her  True  Position  in  Society  ; "  another  lec- 
ture on  Education  before  the  American  Institute  of  In- 
struction ;  and  a  sermon  before  the  Young  Men's  Total 
Abstinence  Society.  It  was  known  that  he  could  do 
well  in  emergencies,  and  sometimes  the  summons  was 
very  short.  Whether  short  or  not  by  summons,  by  his 
own  delay  and  the  press  of  other  work  the  time  grew 
always  scant  before  the  task  was  fairly  under  way.  The 
funeral-sermon  would  be  finished  in  the  cars,  the  dedi- 
cation-sermon on  the  boat,  —  where  once  he  called  for 
lights,  and  sat  up  nearly  the  whole  night  writing  in  the 
cabin. 

About  this  time  the  "  Lyceum  Lecture  "  was  added  to 
American  institutions.  Every  large  village  must  have 
its  course  of  lectures.  They  stirred  the  quiet  winters 
with  a  touch  of  literary  life,  and  gave  the  country- 
people  a  chance  to  face  the  famous  city-men ;  and  the 
authors  and  ministers,  on  their  part,  were  glad  enough 
to  eke  out  narrow  incomes  by  playing  the  apostle  of 
culture.  To  this  end.  Dr.  Gannett  joined  the  ranks,  and 
for  five  or  six  winters  took  many  a  cold  ride  b}^  car  and 
stage  about  New  England.  "  Conversation,"  ''  Man- 
ners," "  New  England  Ideas  and  Institutions,"  and 
similar  subjects,  gave  him  themes.  The  venture  was 
successful,  but  his  audiences  did  not  laugli  so  often  as 
perhaps  they  wished  to,  nor  so  often  as  perhaps  he 
wished  they  would;  for  he  could  never  far  unbend  from 
the  preacher's  earnest  attitude :  on  platform  and  in 
pulpit,  his  nature  was  the  same. 

In  the  matter  of  income,  just  now  alluded  to,  a  con- 
stant competition  went  on  between  the  generosity  of  his 
parish  and  his  own  sense  of  ill-desert  and  proper  minis- 
terial simplicity.     The  record  of  the  race  is  comically 


254  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1838-1852. 

honorable  to  Loth.  In  1840,  although  in  debt,  he 
refused  an  increase  of  salary :  tlie  people  had  been  too 
good  to  him  in  Europe.  The  advent  of  the  otlier  chil- 
dren made  a  difference,  so  that  in  1842  he  consented  to 
accept  $500  more,  wliich  made  the  salary  $2500.  In 
1846  another  $500  was  twice  offered,  twice  declined. 
Two  years  later  he  concluded  he  ought  to  yield  to 
wishes  repeatedly  expressed,  lest  he  should  seem  insen- 
sible to  the  kind  intent ;  but  repentance  came,  — his  con- 
science gave  no  rest  till  the  sum  was  back  in  the 
treasurer's  hands.  The  parish,  however,  provided  with 
a  conscience  and  a  preference,  too,  as  positively  refused 
to  receive  it  back,  and  kept  on  investing  it  yearly  for 
his  benefit.  In  1851  they  begged  him  to  go  to  Europe, 
and  in  this  way  use  the  accumulating  fund.  No,  he 
would  not.  The  next  year  he  finally  accepted  the 
increase  for  the  future,  forcing  the  reluctant  friends  to 
say  no  more  about  the  four  times  $500  now  untouched. 
To  say  no  more  to  him  ;  but  twenty  years  later,  Avhen 
all  was  over,  it  remained  in  the  parish  treasury,  and  was 
offered  anew  to  his  children  as  the  ''  Gannett  Fund." 
There  perhaps  it  still  remains.  In  1853  the  European 
journey  was  again  suggested:  in  vain.  In  1858  a 
journey  in  the  States  with  money  for  it:  in  vain. 
The  next  year,  might  they  not  pay  his  house-rent?  No. 
And  so  on  in  later  years,  as  we  shall  see. 

This  conscientiousness  had  no  solitary  reference  to 
tlie  parish.  It  was  but  one  expression  of  his  general 
feeling  about  trusts.  In  all  transactions  involving 
money,  there  was  the  same  scruple  to  be  just  against 
himself.  Taxes  would  be  low,  if  all  weighed  their 
spoons  and  counted  their  dividends  bo  carefully,  and 
made  sucli  returns  of  propert}^  as  he  felt  bound  to  make. 
Here,  for  instance,  is  a  letter  to  the  treasurer  of  Harvard 
College  :  — 


1838-1852.]    MID-DAY:   KEEPING   THE  FAITH.        255 

"  Boston,  Jan.  15,  1849- 
"DeaPv  Sir,  —  I  have  long  desired  to  do  what  now  for  the 
first  time  it  is  in  my  power  to  do.  While  a  member  of  the 
Divinity  School  at  Cambridge,  in  the  years  1821-24,  I  re- 
ceived at  different  times,  from  Mr.  Higginson,  Steward  of 
the  College,  various  sums,  which  were  given  me  as  one  of  the 
Divinity  students,  I  understood  to  defray  or  reduce  the 
expenses  of  ray  theological  education.  I  have  no  recollec- 
tion, nor  do  I  think,  that  the  money  which  T  received,  or  any 
part  of  it,  was  asked  for,  either  by  myself  or  by  any  one  of 
my  relatives;  nor  do  I  know  on  what  ground  it  could  have 
been  bestowed,  other  than  the  mere  fict  that  I  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  School.  I  was  not  then  in  need  of  assistance, 
having  inherited  from  my  father's  estate  more  than  what 
was  sufKcient  to  carry  me  through  my  professional  studies. 
For  many  years,  having  unwisely  brought  myself  into  debt, 
I  forgot  this  among  more  pressing  obligations.  Of  late 
years,  however,  it  has  been  a  source  of  anxiety;  and  now, 
having  just  paid  the  last  debt  which  could  be  demanded  of 
me,  I  wish  to  return  this  money  also,  which  it  seems  to  me 
that  I  ought  never  to  have  taken.  .  .  .  Two  hundred  and 
ten  dollars,  therefore,  constitute  the  amount  which  I  seem 
to  have  received,  and  now  desire  to  return  to  the  source 
whence  it  was  derived;  and  I  beg  leave  to  enclose  this 
amount,  subject  to  your  disposal  as  Treasurer  of  the  College. 
I  do  not  add  the  interest,  not  only  because  I  have  not  the 
means,  but  because  it  does  not  apj^ear  to  me  that  I  am  bound 
to  pay  interest  on  sums  advanced  under  the  circumstances 
which  I  have  described. 

"  Ilespectfully  and  truly  yours, 

"Ezra  S.  Ganxett." 

The  classmates  of  1820  were  now  turning  the  corner 
of  their  fifties  together  ;  and  one  of  the  band,  Governor 
Paine  of  Vermont,  invited  them  to  meet  at  his  country- 
home   and    celebrate    old    collecre    memories.      Fifteen 


256  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.  [1838-1852. 

assembled  at  1  he  welcome.  "  Gannett,"  as  he  again 
became,  took  his  two  boys  with  him  ;  and  thence  the 
three  went  on  far  into  Canada,  down  the  majestic 
river,  to  the  gorge  where  the  Saguenay  comes  through 
the  northern  wilderness.  It  was  the  little  fellow  with 
him,  not  the  classmates'  greeting,  nor  the  impression  of 
the  river-solitude,  that  made  that  summer  so  dear  for 
him  to  recollect.  When  the  next  winter  came,  five 
winters  from  the  mother's  death,  a  single  line  under- 
sv,;red  in  the  Journal  tells  how  suddenly  the  home  again 
was  darkened :  — 

"Monday,  Jan.  26,  1852,  te?i  minutes  past  ticelce.^'' 
"Henry's  illness  was  very  brief.  I  went  to  my  lecture 
Sunday  evening  with  a  troubled  heart,  yet  without  defined 
fears.  The  next  morning  he  suddenly  failed,  and  at  twelve 
o'clock  passed  away  without  any  suffering.  Three  times  I 
kissed  back  his  breath,  and  then  he  breathed  no  more.  .  .  . 
We  miss  him  continually.  When  I  came  into  the  house,  my 
first  salutation  was  from  him,  and  his  arms  were  round  my 
neck.  Our  home  is  changed.  But  I  thank  God  for  his  life 
and  the  joy  we  had  in  him  ;  and  I  ought  to  be  willing,  I 
believe  I  am,  that  God  should  arrange  the  circumstances  of 
his  future  education.  Now  his  life  seems  to  me  to  have  been 
a  dream  of  mine,  so  vivid  in  its  passage  and  so  distinct  from 
all  present  experience.  He  was  a  dear  child,  the  most  affec- 
tionate and  joyous  in  his  nature.  He  clung  to  me  with  all 
the  love  of  a  child's  heart,  and  I  leaned  on  him,  I  knew  not 
how  much,  till  he  had  gone." 

Already  he  had  written  to  a  friend :  — 

"  I  am  growing  old  with  a  fearful  rapidity,  or  rather  have 
already  become  an  old  man.  What  shall  you  think  if  I  tell 
you  that,  few  as  our  days  arc  on  earth,  my  life  seems  to  me 
to  have  been  a  long  one.  As  we  look  back  and  see  through 
what  changes  we  have  passed  and  how  many  have  left  us, 


1838-1852.]     MID-DAY:  KEEPING    THE  FAITH.        257 

do  we  all  feel  that  we  have  lived  centuries  instead  of  years  ? 
I  suspect  so.  And  with  this  sense  of  age  comes  a  partial 
weariness  of  life,  a  dread  of  yet  more  change  and  excitement, 
a  desire  rather  for  the  security  of  another  world  tlian  for  the 
uncertain  future  of  this.  I  am  all  the  time  longing  for 
repose.  Rest  and  progress, — how  shall  we  unite  those  two 
opposite  states  of  being?  Yet  they  must  be  haimonized  in 
our  experience." 

That  was  written  the  3''ear  before.  It  was  more  true 
now.  From  the  time  that  Henry  went,  he  was  an  old 
man. 


17 


ARLINGTON    STREET    CHURCH. 


IX. 


AFTERXOON:    ANTI-SLAVERY  AND  WAR  TIMES. 

1852-1865. 

The  home  was  in  a  country-nook  no  longer.  On  the 
garden  at  the  foot  of  "the  Court"  the  Music  Hall  was 
built ;  and  the  long  bank  where  the  cherry-tree  and 
lilacs,  the  smoke-bush  and  the  savin-tree,  had  grown, 
and  the  woodbines  hung  the  bronzed  and  crimson  A^eil 
in  autumn,  was  noAV  a  sidewalk,  where  the  throngs 
passed  up  and  down  to  evening  concerts  and  to  hear 
Theodore  Parker  preach  on  Sunday  mornings.  On  the 
other  side,  just  through  the  parlor-wall,  the  hack-horses 
of  a  neighbor  stamped, — towards  whom  the  pastor's 
family  and  his  parish  felt  tJie  charity  which  sometimes 
faileth. 

It  was  a  minister's  house.  You  would  have  Imown 
that  not  more  by  tlie  books  in  the  study  than  by  the 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  259 

pictures  in  the  parlor.  The  latter,  gifts  of  friends, 
were  carefully  ecclesiastical  or  scriptural  in  subject,  — 
Madonnas  of  Raphael,  Christs  of  Ary  Scheffer.  The 
owner  liked  it  so.  He  would  have  his  house  denote 
his  work,  as  the  pulpit-gown  or  the  black  coat  denoted 
it.  In  all  things  the  furnishing  was  plain.  No  minis- 
ter should  be  over-comfortable,  was  his  theory.  Ex- 
ceeding peace  would  seem  to  disfellowship  the  little 
ones  of  the  flock.  In  the  study,  the  couch  and  the 
great  table,  the  little  desk  where  the  sermons  came, — 
it  had  been  his  wife's  school-desk,  —  and  the  book-lined 
wall,  left  small  place  for  more.  Few  new  books  were 
bought,  even  in  the  favorite  department  of  Bible-work. 
Those  on  the  shelves,  in  the  rusty  leather  covers,  were 
the  standard  commentaries  and  metaphysics  of  his 
youth.  Friends'  faces  made  the  pictures  here,  —  Chan- 
ning  and  Tuckerman,  Henry  Ware  and  William  Fur- 
ness.  Judge  Davis's  bust  looked  down  from  a  corner. 
The  Judge  had  been  one  of  the  old  parishioners. 

Nor  less  a  minister's  household  than  his  house.  The 
morning-greetings  were  given,  Bible  in  hand  ;  the  chil- 
dren reading  their  verses  round  in  turn,  and  kneeling 
with  the  father  in  his  prayer.  The  burden  of  that 
prayer  was  the  day's  prophecy.  If  it  were  humble  and 
penitent,  he  would  be  sad  and  weary  ;  if  full  of  thanks 
for  life  and  its  opportunities,  he  was  to  go  from  door  to 
door  on  errands  of  a  pastor's  love  ;  if  full  of  fervor  and 
sanctity,  the  Bible  class  or  sermon  was  the  day's  work. 
Sickness,  late  rising,  company,  seldom  interfered  with 
this  service,  even  if  it  were  held  with  his  children  alone 
in  the  study.  The  family-week  moved  on  to  parish- 
lime  :  Tuesday  and  Wednesday  were  "  Bible-class 
days  ;  "  Thursday  was  "  Channing  Circle  day."  A  pile 
of  Bibles  waited  in  the  china-closet,  and  the  chairs  were 


260  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.  [1852-1865. 

wont  to  flit  about  the  house  to  l}e  marshalled  in  the 
parlor.     The  children  were  brought  up  to  hand  about 
sponge-cal^e  and  tea,  and  work  quick  miracles  of  trans- 
formation in  the  furniture.     Half  an  hour  after  the  last 
of  the   sixty  or  seventy  friends   had   said  good-night, 
order  reigned  on  shelf  and  in  the  chambers :    all  was 
back  again  in  place.     Of  the  meetings  in  this  later  time, 
one  who  was  a  part  of  them  writes :  "  The  heavy  step 
on  the  stairs  as  he  came  down  w^ith  his  arms  laden  with 
books  was  always  the  signal  for  a  welcoming  smile  ;  and 
then,  as  the  talk  grew  earnest  or  the  exposition  knotty, 
his  face  lighted  and  the  smiles  quivered  into  one  another. 
It  was  like  a  father  among  his  children.     At  the  sewins:- 
circle,  — '  Channing  Circle,'  as  it  now  was  always  called, 
—  he  Avas  sometimes  full  of  fun  and  humor;   while  the 
confidences  in  the  more  serious  Bible-class  hours  brought 
him  very  near  to  those  who  were  searching  for  truth. 
It  was  in  these  meetings  —  and  they  were  generally  in 
his  own  house  —  that  the  remarkable  love  between  the 
people  and  the  minister  was  born  and  fostered."     They 
never  were  a  weariness  to  him.     The  hours  given  both 
to  preparation  and  to  lecture  were  among  his  pleasant- 
est,  and  he  was  very  happy  when  he  succeeded  in  draw- 
ing   the   members  into   free    conversation.      Nor  were 
these   hours  allowed   to    put   restriction   on    his    calls, 
which  were  oftener  made  in  the  evening,  especially  at 
the  tea-time.     As  a  rule,  the  well-knowm  canes  bore  him 
from  house  to  house  from  five  in  the   afternoon  until 
long  after  the  nine  o'clock  bells  rung  good  callers  home. 
And  all  days  looked   towards   Sunday,   the   father's 
"work-day.      It  began  on  Saturday  evening.      For  the 
children,  no  party-going  then,  no  noisy  game,  no  novel 
after  nine  o'clock  :  even  sewing  after  nine  was  mikl  sacri- 
lege, against  which  the  feeling  brought  from  childhood 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  261 

made  a  protest.  He  usually  took  tea  that  evening  with 
one  dear  friend  close  by.  On  returning,  the  Aveek's  ac- 
counts were  puzzled  out  and  squared.  And  then,  the 
world's  work  over,  the  children,  as  tliey  came  in  to  kiss 
good-night,  would  see  perhaps  the  first  sheet  of  the  ser- 
mon started,  theme  and  text  at  top.  The  thinking  for 
it  had  been  done  before  upon  the  streets.  On  and  on 
through  the  small  hours  the  lamp  kept  bright.  Down- 
stairs the  tea-pot  simmered  on  the  range,  and  a  little 
waiter  held  the  slice  of  Graham  bread  and  crackers  for 
the  midnight  freshening.  The  study-couch  was  usually 
bed,  and  the  morning  found  the  sermon  on  page  four- 
teenth or  fifteenth.  Seven  or  eight  pages  yet  to  be  de- 
spatched ;  but  they  were  sure  to  come,  the  last  as  the 
bells  rang  church-time. 

Twice  always  the  chihlren  went  to  church,  besides 
the  Sunday  school.  No  household  task  that  could  be 
spared  was  done,  that  all  the  family  might  share  the 
Sabbath  rest.  Year  in,  year  out,  the  cold  corned  beef 
and  Indian  pudding,  prepared  the  day  before,  ap- 
peared at  dinner,  —  until  at  last  a  revolution  hap- 
pened, and  a  plum-pudding  dynasty  succeeded.  Grave 
books  were  read,  —  Paradise  Lost,  Butler's  Analogy, 
or  smaller  reading  to  match.  In  the  twilight,  as  the 
father  rested  on  the  couch  or  in  the  great  arm-chair, 
the  children  had  their  best  hour  with  him :  in  younger 
days,  reciting  Dr.  Channing's  little  catechism ;  when 
older,  giving  memories  of  the  sermons,  or  telling  what 
they  had  read,  and  saying  favorite  hymns,  among 
which  the  mother's  never  were  forgotten.  Sunday 
evening  the  table  must  be  more  plentiful,  to  honor 
the  likely  guest ;  and  after  tea,  if  no  engagement  called 
him  forth,  the  circle  was  apt  to  be  enlarged  by  parish- 
callers.     One  lonely  waif  there  was,  of  Boston  fame  for 


262  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-1865. 

friendlessness,  who  knew  that,  if  Dr.  Gannett  were 
only  in,  there  would  be  a  pleasant  Sunday  evening  in 
his  dreary  week,  and  some  one  who  would  listen  to 
him  patiently  while  the  words  fell  slow  and  large  in 
separate  drops.  No  wonder  that  he  came  for  years 
so  regularl}'. 

It  was  a  home  of  principles  rather  than  of  rules  and 
strict  exactitudes.  Life  seemed  to  shape  itself  as  a 
matter  of  course  to  the  father's  standard  and  his  neces- 
sary work.  Not  his  convenience,  but  his  work, — that 
was  the  centre  round  which  all  revolved.  There  might 
have  been  more  careless  grace  in  household  ways ;  for 
the  mother-aunt  and  the  elder  children  felt  the  pressure 
of  his  tired  mood,  and  learned  to  watch  and  wait  upon 
his  sensitiveness.  Henry,  the  youngest,  with  his  im- 
petuous loving  ways  burst  in  upon  the  shadows  without 
knowing  their  existence  ;  which  made  his  going  the  more 
l)itter  loss.  But,  shadowed  or  unshadowed,  there  was 
always  in  the  house  a  presence  that  stood  for  perfect 
truthfulness,  for  hourly  self-denials  and  active  thought- 
fulness  for  others,  for  frank  humility  in  confessing 
wrong  or  ignorance  or  failure.  The  children  saw  a 
grown-up  man,  their  father,  trying  like  a  child  with 
them  to  be  and  do  just  right.  To  live  with  him,  and 
doubt  that  there  were  such  things  in  the  world  as 
supreme  sincerity  and  unselfishness,  would  have  been  to 
doubt  that  the  sun  shone  in  at  the  windows. 

Great  was  the  respect  for  anniversaries,  and  great  the 
children's  corresponding  expectation.  Fourth  of  July 
brought  the  annual  walk  through  the  Common,  the 
glasses  of  colored  lemonade,  the  weights  of  the  family 
registered  in  the  memorandum-book,  water-lilies,  whips, 
and  canes.  To  do  less  would  have  been  unpatriotic. 
Blessed  was  the  child  who  fell  to  his  c^enerous  care 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  263 

that  daj^  If  the  home  provided  none,  the  mall  did. 
Thanksgiving  was  a  grand  family  festival.  To  the 
young  eyes  the  silent  group  of  black  puddings  waiting 
in  the  dimness  of  the  cellar  had  something  awful  about 
them.  They  brought  to  mind  the  P3a'amids,  and 
seemed  almost  as  everlasting.  The  little  pies  and  big 
rejoiced  on  every  side.  The  entire  quartette,  mince  and 
apple,  squash  and  pumpkin,  must  glorify  the  table  :  not 
one  should  fail  the  yearning  of  the  New  England  heart 
on  that  day.  But  the  happy  festival  of  all  was  New 
Year's  Day,  never  forgotten  even  when  the  mother  died, 
or  the  father  was  most  ill.  How  good  "  the  parish  " 
used  to  be,  —  to  father  and  to  children  too  !  How 
promptly  the  door-bell  was  tended  till  certain  packages 
sure  to  come  in  well-known  handwriting  had  arrived ! 
And  how  he  wearied  in  the  shops  till  the  right  gift  was 
found  for  each  one  in  the  wide  circle,  inside  and  outside 
the  house,  that  he  remembered !  The  gifts  would 
sometimes  oddly  mingle  deference  to  another's  rights  of 
taste  with  honest  disapproval  of  the  taste.  He  would 
purchase  no  German  books  for  a  certain  girl,  —  not 
he  I  —  preferring  she  should  read  devotional  English 
ones,  yet  duly  put  into  her  hands  the  money  to  buy  her 
choice,  knowing  well  what  it  would  be.  The  birthdays, 
too,  were  very  sacred,  and  no  growing  up  wore  out  their 
sanctity.  Bundles,  carefully  wrapped,  were  sure  to  set 
out  for  the  absent  son,  wherever  he  might  be. 

The  constant  giving,  and  the  personal  economies  which 
made  it  possible,  were  in  curious  contrast  to  each  other. 
The  black  clothes  reached  a  shiny  old  age  before  they 
were  set  free,  and  he  fairly  revelled  in  the  cheapness  of  his 
Oak  Hall  summer  suit.  If  friends  had  not  been  gener- 
ous, he  would  hardly  have  known  what  ease  meant; 
yet,  to  vanquish  his  sure  impulse,  one   had   to    argue 


264  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-1865. 

with  him  that  refusal  of  the  carriage  or  the  Sunday 
grapes  would  be  disloyal  to  a  kind  intent.  He  seemed 
to  dislike  taking  almost  as  much  as  he  rejoiced  in 
giving  and  sharing.  The  very  children  had  to  become 
anonymous  sometimes,  to  carry  a  point  of  comfort  for 
him.  Throughout  the  household  life  there  was  the 
healthy  pinch  that  keeps  one  braced  with  the  sense  of 
having  just  enough,  and  mindful,  therefore,  of  the  many 
who  have  less.  A  slight  eater  himself,  almost  a  vege- 
tarian by  constitution,  and  trained  to  the  sober  solidities 
of  Puritanic  diet,  he  eschewed  most  dainties.  Tea  was 
the  one  great  indulgence  ;  for  restoratives,  peppermint 
if  he  felt  badly,  molasses  and  water  with  ginger  in  it  if 
life  were  gladsome,  until  quite  late  in  years.  At  times, 
when  chatting  with  a  brother-minister,  he  used  to 
smoke  a  mild  and  cheap  cigar.  But  a  day  came  when 
the  rest  of  the  bunch  went  into  the  fire,  and  he  never 
touched  one  afterwards :  his  boy  was  coming  to  an  age 
when  the  example  might  be  dangerous.  Yet  the  outfit 
of  ash-pans,  cigar-cases,  and  the  amber-tubes,  Avas  pres- 
ently made  over  to  the  innocent !  Perhaps  from  cosey 
associations  with  the  kitchen  in  the  prim  child-life,  he 
always  loved  a  luncheon  by  the  kitchen-fire.  Various 
were  the  devices  employed  to  induce  him  to  partake  of 
any  slight  luxury  provided  in  the  home.  Habitual 
butter,  and  not  too  much,  was  the  line  at  which  sim* 
plicity  ended  and  luxury  began.  Jelly  was  tasted  with 
an  apology,  for  its  function  claimed  it  for  the  sick. 
More  than  once  he  succeeded  in  sending  the  roast  beef, 
whole  and  hot,  from  the  table  to  some  poor  friend. 
Once,  probably  when  conscience  had  been  chiding  the 
selfish  extravagance  of  two  courses  at  table  while  the 
poor  were  with  him  always,  he  requested  that  hasty 
pudding   might   be   provided  for   an  indefinite  future. 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  265 

Three  or  four  days  passed,  when,  forgetful  of  their  fate, 
he  brought  home  with  him  to  dinner  some  hungry  min- 
isters. They  shared  his  pudding,  —  and  saved  his  family: 
thenceforward  he  restricted  his  restrictions. 

And  yet  his  hospitality  was  unbounded.  The  weeks 
were  few  in  which  the  guest-room  held  no  visitors  ;  and 
the  guests  made  most  at  home,  and  for  the  longest 
periods,  were  those  who  but  for  him  were  homeless, — 
some  poor  foreigner,  it  might  be  Irish,  German,  French, 
but  oftenest  English,  perhaps  an  English  minister  and 
his  wife.  One  brought  his  family  of  little  children 
straight  from  the  steerage  to  the  shelter:  it  was  summer, 
and  the  host  kept  house  for  them  in  the  empty  rooms. 
Of  course  the  "Civil  Rights'  Bill  "  was  in  force  at  table. 
The  girls  in  the  famil}^  were  made  real  friends,  trusted 
and  trusting :  they  shared  in  the  good  times  and  sor- 
rows, and  those  who  lived  long  there  became  and  seemed 
to  feel  like  relatives.  "  Anniversary  Week  "  was  the 
jubilee  week  of  the  year.  Dr.  Gannett  was  a  city  min- 
ister, and  to  the  utmost  corner  of  the  rooms  or  table  the 
house  belonged  that  week  to  the  "  brethren."  He  dearly 
loved  that  name,  especially  in  the  plural.  The  week 
began  with  the  "Association"  to  tea, — on  this  Mon- 
day trebled  in  number  by  the  advent  of  the  country-par- 
sons. On  the  three  great  days  of  the  Feast,  there  were 
dinner-parties ;  and  the  table  sometimes  stretched  diago- 
nally across  the  parlor  to  hold  the  two  or  three  more 
guests,  Avhom  at  the  last  moment  he  could  not  deny 
himself.  They  were  curious  dinners,  such  as  were  not 
often  found  elsewhere,  —  simple  and  neat  in  form,  but 
side  by  side  sat  scholar  and  the  farmer-minister,  the 
eloquent  speaker  of  the  morning  and  the  timid  young 
beginner,  all  unknown,  yet  kindled  into  speech  before 
the  hour  was  over  by  the  tact  that  bade  him  welcome. 


266  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-1865. 

At  the  evening  teas,  the  brethren,  two,  three,  four  score, 
dropped  in  by  clusters,  as  trhey  would. 

His  charities,  too,  were  very  large  for  his  income,  but 
larger  yet  his  patience  and  sym23athy.  The  word  '^  En- 
gaged" was  seldom  allowed  to  be  said  at  the  door.  The 
story  must  be  listened  to ;  and  he  would  question  and 
cross-question  the  petitioners,  chide,  and  give,  all  at  tlie 
same  time.  The  entry-dialogues  and  his  experimental 
confidences  became  home-jokes.  The  funeral  or  mar- 
riage, be  it  of  a  stranger  and  poor,  was  rarely  solemnized 
without  the  fresh  cravat.  Those  poor  whom  he  had 
adopted  —  his  pensioners  —  came  to  him  as  to  a  father. 
Was  "Patrick's"  boy  in  trouble.  Dr.  Gannett  was 
Chief  Comforter  in  the  case.  Did  his  apple-woman  on 
the  Common  plan  some  wholesale  purchase  of  a  box 
of  oranges  or  a  doughnut  speculation  for  the  Fourth  of 
July,  Dr.  Gannett  was  summoned  to  the  council  and 
made  banker.  Unpaid  rents,  pawnbrokers'  charges, 
family  disputes,  "  black  Sarah's "  funeral,  all  were 
brought  to  him  for  settlement,  often  adding  to  the 
complexity  of  Saturday  night  accounts,  and  sending 
him  to  borrow  money  in  advance  of  the  quarter's  salary. 
On  Thanksgiving  eve,  the  eight  or  ten  turke3's  were 
carefully  weighed,  tied,  labelled,  and  despatched,  mated 
with  the  proper  pies,  to  make  the  next  day  merrier  for 
certain  friends.  Not  till  he  was  sure  that  the  woman 
with  four  children  had  a  ten-pound  turkey  and  the 
childless  widow  a  six-pounder,  was  the  sermon  touched: 
no  one  could  arrange  it  but  himself.  In  the  same  way 
the  grapes  were  distributed  from  the  great  vine  that 
clambered  over  the  nursery  windows:  the  neighbors 
had  their  plateful  of  the  little  harvest. 

And  usually  he  was  his  own  messenger  of  help.  The 
hnmes  of  the   poor  knew  him  well.     A  fi'iend   tells  of 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  267 

seeing  liim  on  a  very  slippery  day,  down  by  North  Street, 
feeling  his  way  carefully  along,  the  two  canes  grasped 
in  one  hand,  the  other  carrying  a  bowl.  Espying  M., 
he  stepped  into  a  door.  As  his  spy  turned  the  corner 
and  looked  back,  he  saw  the  Doctor  cautiously  peep  out, 
and  then  begin  again  the  perilous  journey, — to  some 
attic,  probably,  in  the  neighborhood.  The  habits  of 
another  friend,  whom  he  had  recommended  to  the  pul- 
pits, came  to  his  knowledge,  and  he  felt  obliged  to  speak 
of.  them  at  the  Association.  S.  found  himself  cut  off 
from  preaching,  and  was  intensely  angry  with  him. 
The  scholar,  sick  and  moneyless,  used  to  get  young 
Wendte  to  do  his  errands  and  ask  assistance  here  and 
there.  One  day,  in  a  rain-storm,  bound  on  some  such 
mission,  the  boy  met  Dr.  Gannett.  "  Why,  where  are 
you  going  in  this  rain  ?  "  —  "  For  the  doctor."  —  "  Is  your 

mothersick?"  — "No,it'sS ."  His  face  felL  ''What 

is  the  matter  ?  "  Wendte  described  the  poor  man  in  his 
wretchedness.  "  Where  does  he  live  ?  "  They  parted. 
The  boy  went  on  about  his  errand,  and  came  back 
an  hour  afterwards  to  find  Dr.  Gannett  already  there. 
S.  was  out  of  bed,  sitting  in  the  chair,  looldng  at  him 
with  tears  in  his  eyes.  The  Doctor,  lame  as  he  was, 
had  taken  him  up,  made  the  bed,  swept  up  the  room, 
and  from  somewhere  got  a  bowl  of  soup. 

**  That  best  portion  of  a  good  man's  life, 
His  little,  nameless,  unremembered  acts 
Of  kindness  and  of  love," 

made  a  very  large  portion  of  this  man's  life.  Some- 
times their  connection  with  an  especial  "  cause  "  gives 
such  little  deeds  dramatic  setting,  and  lifts  them  up  to 
name  and  fame.  Not  so  with  him  and  his.  They  were 
scattered  broadcast  over  the  common  ways  of  life,  into 


268  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-1865. 

the  lot  of  poor  people,  of  tired,  friendless  people,  of  sad 
parishioners,  of  ''  brethren  "  stricken  with  his  own  de- 
spondency who  made  his  study  their  confessional.  To 
these  last  he  could  speak  words  of  wisest  cheer,  know- 
ing—  no  one  better  —  the  secret  in  their  heart,  and  how 
to  offer  healing  which  he  could  not  use  himself.  Such 
words  and  acts  were  seldom  to  be  found  out  except  by 
accident,  as  in  the  cases  cited  just  above.  By  the  doer 
they  were  likely  to  be  forgotten  with  the  day. 

Yet  the  detail,  the  thoroughness,  of  his  help,  was  most 
notable.  The  service  would  last  until  the  want  ceased. 
No  one  who  found  shelter  under  his  roof  left  it  until  the 
home  or  the  occupation  was  obtained.  The  widow  fight- 
ing the  wolf  from  the  door  was  borne  in  mind  this  year, 
next  year,  and  year  after,  till  the  boys  grew  tall  and 
earned  enough.  The  North  End  missionary  knew  where 
he  could  turn  for  an  evening's  preaching  every  season ; 
and  the  solitary  sailors'-preacher,  who  once  or  twice 
a  year  came  up  from  his  Land's  End  to  the  Boston  Mecca, 
knew  that  one  face  would  light  up  to  greet  him,  and  a 
hand  would  find  money  for  his  cause,  if  need  be.  Had 
the  old  and  penniless  parishioner  no  relative,  he  would 
render  the  last  services  himself  as  tenderly  as  if  she  were 
a  sister.  Were  a  tired  friend  starting  for  the  White  Hills 
or  for  Europe,  he  delighted  to  write  down  the  routes, 
name  the  hotels,  plan  the  excursions,  provide  the  letters. 
A  young  man  entering  the  city-life  brings  him  a  letter 
from  the  minister  at  home  :  *'  To  my  boarding-place  he 
came  and  to  my  place  of  business,  always  with  the  same 
warm  and  earnest  words,  as  of  a  father  who  had  known 
me  from  childhood.  How  happily  have  I  heard  common 
and  unscrupulous  men  inquire,  '  Is  that  Dr.  Gannett  ? 
Mr.  C,  does  he  call  to  see  youf     We  rarely  see  such 


1852-1856.]  AFTERNOON.  269 

men  about  here.'  Indeed,  the  entire  scene  of  a  sales- 
room would  seem  to  change  to  quiet  and  respect  at  his 
presence." 


He  was  but  fifty  years  old  when  his  boy  died,  yet 
one  meeting  him  in  the  street  would  have  said  "  the 
old  man."  The  black  hair  had  early  turned  gray,  the 
grand,  high  head  was  bald,  the  slight  form  was  bent  as 
the  shoulders  rounded  with  years  of  leaning  on  the 
canes,  and  the  face  showed  lines  of  wear.  The  eyes 
alone  looked  young.  They  told  the  story  of  the  strong 
days  and  the  public  efforts ;  but  the  Journal  shows  the 
other  days  coming  oftener  and  staying  longer.  The 
sensitive  constitution  must  have  been  finely  tempered 
to  have  risen  so  bravely  from  the  first  break-down  and 
the  quick  after-stroke.  Now,  as  it  weakened,  it  ex- 
acted slow  penalty  for  all  neglect  and  strain.  He  lived 
in  a  broken  body.  To  all  duty,  to  all  pleasure,  he 
dragged  the  useless,  withered  limb.  Dyspepsia  in  some 
form  was  almost  chronic.  Pain  was  frequent :  he  some- 
times preached  when  he  could  not  stand  erect  in  its 
grasp.  The  nerves  had  become  most  delicate  metres  of 
wind  and  damp  and  heat :  "  An  east  wind  depresses  or 
irritates  me,  a  dry  fine  air  exhilarates,  or  rather  excites, 
me.  I  need  more  self-control,  more  calmness,  more 
wisdom."  The  clothing  to  protect  them  ranged  through 
three  or  four  grades  of  summer  thinness,  and  as  many 
more  of  winter  thickness.  The  wealth  of  well-darned 
flannels  made  "  Avhich  is  which  ?  "  a  standing  problem, 
solved  over  and  over  with  the  daugliter's  help  amid 
much  tribulation.  Tliis  delicacy  was  reckoned  as  an- 
other of  his  faults,  of  course,  yet  a  mystery  as  well. 
He  never  thoroughly  accepted  the  fact  that  flesh  could 


270  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1852-1865. 

so  control  the  spirit.  Now  and  then,  as  in  the  Rock- 
port  walks,  the  sensitiveness  ministered  to  exquisite 
enjoyment ;  far  oftener  it  put  an  edge  on  pain.  One 
day  an  ordination  called  him  back  to  Bedford :  — 

"Mr.  Gushing  took  me  to  the  old  school-house,  where, 
thirty-seven  years  ago,  I  was  frightened  by  the  children,  and 
tried  (and  acquitted)  by  the  school-committee.  I  remem- 
bered it  as  of  yesterday,  even  to  the  place  for  wood  in  the 
entry,  and  to  the  spot  very  near  where  Mr.  Lane's  house 
stood  in  which  I  boarded.  No  other  week  of  my  early  life 
seems  to  have  left  such  a  distinct  impression  on  my  memory. 
The  air  was  deUcious,  wind  from  the  south-west,  sky  clear, 
and  country  verdant  still.  The  atmospheric  influence  and 
the  mental  association  produced  an  almost  painful  conscious- 
ness of  pleasure.     A  rare  day!" 

Or  again :  — 

"  A  singular  change  to-day.  •  This  morning  I  came  home 
almost  broken  in  spirit.  After  dinner  slept  two  hours,  and 
woke  up  strong  and  almost  presumptuous  in  feeling." 

Such  sentences  were  symptomatic.  He  analyzed  his 
pleasure,  his  courage,  his  sorrow,  his  failure,  the  ser- 
mon's worth,  his  bearing  in  the  call  or  the  discussion, 
his  ability  for  ministerial  work.  It  was  very  strange. 
He  was  absolutely  simple,  sincere,  often  too  impetuous 
in  word  and  act :  after  the  word  or  action,  self-conscious- 
ness beset  him,  not  prompting  to  selfishness  or  content, 
but  to  the  uttermost  opposite  of  these.  He  was  aware 
of  the  tendency,  lamented  it,  struggled  against  it ;  but 
what  so  hard  to  conquer  by  struggle  as  the  habit  whose 
one  master  is  simple,  self-forgetting  Health  ?  Some- 
times, as  has  been  said  before,  he  seemed  a  very  boy 
in  glee  and  banter.  The  amused  smile  which  faintly 
lingers  in  our  frontispiece    was  quite  common  on  his 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  271 

lips.  Many  a  guest  must  remember  him  in  hours  of 
merriment,  and,  if  he  reads  this  book,  will  wonder  at  the 
shade  that  overspreads  it.  It  was  hard  to  recognize  in 
the  leader  of  a  mountain  party,  standing  and  shouting 
in  the  wagon,  improvising  the  doggerel  in  his  turn,  buy- 
ing cake  for  the  sake  of  fairness  at  the  hotel  where 
the  party  lingered  for  a  moment,  recruiting  for  picnics, 
making  the  fire,  cutting  the  branches,  —  hard  to  recog- 
nize in  him  the  troubled,  tired  minister  of  the  winter. 

What  he  needed  to  make  him  always  glad  was  the 
power  to  be  successfully  busy  according  to  his  ideal: 
but  that  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  he  might  have  the 
good  time,  but  never  the  spirit  of  good  cheer ;  that  ht; 
could  not  Avin  peace,  but  only  an  escape.  He  lacked 
the  elements  which  help  to  balance  moral  earnestness ; 
lacked  belief  in  the  body's  rights  and  the  duty  of  diver- 
sion ;  lacked  the  sense  of  humor,  —  that  safety-valve  of 
conscience ;  lacked  the  sense  of  beauty  in  any  rich  de- 
velopment. Music,  save  as  hymns  where  he  could  hear 
the  words,  was  an  unknown  language.  Pictures  had 
more  meaning.  The  theatre,  often  visited  in  college- 
days,  was  afterwards  wholly  given  up  in  deference  to 
common  expectation ;  for  he  thought  it  duty  to  observe 
that  etiquette  of  dress  and  bearing  and  amusement 
which  buttresses  a  minister's  good  influence  with  a  com- 
munity. The  American  circus,  however,  remained  legal 
fun,  and  the  children  always  had  the  treat.  Flowers 
had  strangely  little  charm.  At  funerals,  in  church,  at 
the  communion-service,  he  could  not  bear  their  pres- 
ence :  the  brightness,  the  laugh  in  them,  seemed  irrev- 
erent. Clouds  were  to  him  what  flowers  are  to  most,  a 
dreamy  wonder  and  delight.  Nature  as  landscape  was 
loved  dearly,  and  in  nature  the  mountains  best.  He 
would  sleep  in  the  country  of  a  spring-night  on  purpose 


272  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT,         [1852-1865. 

to  hear  the  birds  sing  once  in  the  morning.  As  to 
books,  he  read  little,  and  made  hardly  any  thing  his 
study,  save  the  Bible  :  duties  among  men  and  women, 
and  the  press  of  necessary  writing,  used  the  time  all  up. 
A  novel  could  not  be  read  with  easy  conscience,  even 
on  a  sick-bed :  ''  It  always  seems  as  if  I  were  wasting 
time,"  —  a  pang  that  somehow  was  not  roused  by  news- 
papers. He  seldom  went  to  poetry  for  rest,  nor  to 
science  for  fresh  fields  of  curiosity.  A  solid  argument 
with  some  moral  or  religious  bearing  suited  best.  He 
was  very  humble,  too  humble,  about  this  ignorance  of 
books  ;  for,  when  he  read,  it  was  as  men  do  who  think 
much  outside  of  books :  he  was  not  at  the  author's 
mercy,  but  caught  the  strong  and  weak  points  at  a 
glance,  and  judged  a  ready,  reasonable  judgment  of 
his  own. 

This  was  poor  provision  by  way  of  balance  to  that 
conscience.  Only  system,  and  something  like  a  reso- 
lute, wise  selfishness,  would  have  helped  in  such  a  strait. 
Had  he  deliberately  done  more  for  himself,  he  would 
have  been  able  to  do  still  more  for  others.  In  spite  of 
the  hopeful  plans  with  which,  after  the  Sundays,  he  so 
often  faced  anew  the  weeks,  there  was  no  system  in 
the  labor,  no  economy  of  time  and  strength.  Always 
delaying,  he  felt  always  pressed.  Between  those  little 
deeds  done  for  others,  moments  slipped  away  which 
should  have  been  compressed  into  reserves  for  rest,  for 
books,  for  quiet  thinking.  Other  moments  vanished  in 
disproportioned  painstaking  about  trifles.  All  must  be 
punctiliously  nice,  from  the  linen  and  the  hands  to  the 
wording  of  the  slightest  note  and  the  package  tied  with 
twine.  So  the  months  passed  in  a  constant  sense  of 
things  undone  and  waiting,  things  poorly  done  and  con- 
demning.     Rarely  was  a  quiet  singing  moment  his,  a 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  273 

lialf-hour  of  simple  peacefulness.  Now  and  then,  if  on 
a  Sunday  he  had  preached  his  twice  and  the  new  ser- 
mon had  been  a  little  better  than  usual,  and  he  knew  no 
tired  friend  to  whom  he  ought  to  offer  help  in  an  even- 
ing service,  —  now  and  then,  at  such  a  time,  the  sound  of 
hymns  would  come  from  his  lips  as  he  rested,  and  he 
really  enjoyed  the  pause.  But  such  was  not  the  usual 
reward  of  even  Sunday. 

In  the  Journal  of  the  later  years  the  struggle  left  its 
signs  in  many  a  single  word  or  sentence  that  hints  a 
whole  sad  day :  "  Discouraged,"  —  "  greatly  depressed," 

—  "talked    with    about    resigning,"  —  ''wasted 

years"  (this  on  his  birthday),  —  "would  go,  save  for 
the  children,"  —  "impossible  to  write,  duty  to  give  up," 

—  "  tired,  sad,  conscience-stricken,"  —  "  sunk  in  gloom, 
sleeping  to  forget  myself,"  —  "  slept  fifteen  hours  "  (a 
Sunday  night),  "  yet  rose  so  aching  with  fatigue  that 
I  was  obliged  to  lie  on  the  couch  ^gain  before  dinner. 
Well  as  I  look,  I  am  fast  growing  old ;  and  conscience, 
busy  with  its  terrible  reproofs  and  prophecies,  makes 
life  miserable." 

These  are  the  secrets  of  the  private  diary,  but  they 
escaped  sometimes  into  his  look,  his  gait,  his  talk,  his 
letters.  He  was  fifty-five  years  old  when  the  last  lines 
were  written.  Not  only  very  tired, — by  this  time  he  was 
lonely,  too.  So  many  had  gone  whom  he  loved  that 
lie  sometimes  felt  that  he  belonged  more  there  than  here. 

Dec.  25,  1857.  "Eleven  years  since  she  was  taken.  It 
seems  to  me  longer,  much  longer.  I  have  grown  old  since 
that  time.  My  children  have  grown  up,  and  my  work  in 
life  seems  not  to  have  been  done,  but  to  be  past  being  done." 

One  r.ister  had  gone  long  before,  both  his  brothers  re- 
cently, leaving  to  see  each  other  here  only  the  elder  sis- 

18 


274  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1852-1865. 

ter  and  himself,  the  oldest  and  the  youngest  of  those 
who  knew  the  Cambridge  homestead.  Few  of  his  work- 
mates in  close  sympathy  with  his  thought  and  his  en- 
thusiasms linoered  in  the  field.  Two  or  three  times  in 
the  course  of  the  ten  years  between  1850  and  1860 
he  wrote  to  the  parish  letters  of  resignation,  —  which 
friends  persuaded  him  to  withhold,  —  and  returned 
to  the  Ministers'  Association  the  office  of  Moderator, 
only  to  resume  it  at  their  earnest,  affectionate  request. 
Very  touching  already  was  his  sense  of  humility  before 
the  bright  young  brothers  abler  for  work  than  he,  the 
work  in  which  he  once  had  been  as  strong  as  any,  and 
which  he  still  loved  more  than  most.  A  friend  Avho 
detected  the  sad  tone  tried  to  tell  him  how  tenderly 
he  was  regarded  amid  the  changes  in  their  religious 
fellowship :  — 

April,  1856.  "There  is  a  tone  of  sadness  in  your  last  note 
to  me,  which  I  wish  I  could  in  any  way  cheer.  .  .  .  AYhen  I 
call  back  the  occasions  when  as  a  Divinity  student  I  walked 
in  from  Cambridge  to  attend  your  Lectures  in  your  church, 
the  Athenaeum  Hall,  and  the  Tremont  Temple,  remembering 
what  throngs  waited  eagerly  on  your  longest  discourses, 
and  how  earnestly  they  listened  to  your  most  eloquent  and 
cogent  expositions  of  the  strictest  form  of  Unitarianism ;  and 
when  I  compare  these  memories  with  the  changed  state  of 
things  now,  as  regards  both  doctrines  and  men  that  engnge 
enthusiasm  among  us,  it  would  be  insincere  for  me  to  deny 
that  you  do  not  fill  your  old  place  in  the  oldicay.  .  .  AYe  must 
all  reconcile  ourselves  to  the  very  peculiar  character  of  our 
community.  I  do  not  think  it  is  relatively  so  well  balanced 
and  well  regulated  as  it  was  at  the  time  that  our  denomina- 
tion first  took  its  stand.  The  class  of  men  and  women  who 
were  then  earnestly  religious  are  not  so  now.  .  .  Parents 
generally  will  not  exercise  that  kind  and  amount  of  religious 
control  and  care  over  their  own  families  which  they  did  but 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON,  275 

a  score  of  years  ago.  There  is  a  different  way  of  doing 
most  things  in  our  profession.  .  .  I  think  I  have  noticed 
during  the  last  fifteen  years  a  growing  tendency  to  a  per- 
fect isohition  among  our  brethren,  and  yet  I  believe  it  has 
nothing  at  all  to  do  with  personal  likes  or  dislikes  between 
themselves.  .  .  .  The  more  energetic  and  influential  men 
then  were,  the  more  emphatically  they  were  identified  as 
leaders  with  the  movements  of  the  past,  the  more  will  they 
seem  to  be  thrown  into  the  shade  by  a  new  set  of  men  and 
measures.  .  .  You  have  held  in  our  denomination  a  place  of 
honor  and  influence  whicli  only  your  own  modesty  has  led 
you  to  underestimate,  and  which  only  a  tendency  to  de- 
sponding feelings  —  if  you  will  allow  me  candidly  to  say  so 
—  leads  you  now  to  supi^ose  that  you  have  lost.  You  will 
stand  for  ever  identified  w^ith  the  most  earnest  and  vital 
championship  of  the  most  distinct  form  of  Unitarianism.  .  . 
It  is,  after  all,  yo-iir  speech  at  a  convention  which  combines 
all  the  best  and  effective  appeals  that  can  be  looked  for  on  such 
occasions.  Tf  your  favorite  views  are  not  made  as  prominent 
in  the  minds  of  others,  your  spirit  and  devotion  and  entire 
single-heartedness  of  zeal  are  the  admiration  of  all  of  us. 
You  may  be  sure  that  words  of  yours,  which  you  may  have 
been  the  least  inclined  to  follow  with  the  expectation  of 
great  results  from  them,  have  mingled  with  the  best  religious 
elements  in  the  hearts  of  many  hearers  "  .  .  . 


After  a  minister  has  been  at  one  post  for  thirty  years, 
little  new  experience  breaks  in  on  old  ideals  and  old 
routine.^  of  parish-work.  Days  add  themselves  together 
into  seasons,  and  each  one  brings  fresh  interest  and  fresh 
performance,  yet  fresh  in  instance  rather  than  in  kind. 
But  in  the  record  of  more  public  service  a  few  new  items 
must  be  placed,  belonging  to  these  years  of  "  afternoon." 

From  1857  to  1862  Dr.  Gannett  was  President  of  the 
Benevolent  Fraternity  of  Churches,  which  he  had  helped 


276  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-1865. 

to  found  so  long  before,  and  done  all  he  could  to  foster 
ever  since.  It  had  become  the  strong  Unitarian  mission 
of  Boston,  supporting  several  ministers  and  chapels. 
Under  his  appeals,  his  church  was  always  one  of  the 
largest  yearly  donors  to  its  treasury,  as  well  as  to  that 
of  the  Unitarian  Association. 

For  a  long  period  (1835-1858)  he  was  one  of  the 
Overseers  of  Harvard  College.  The  elaborate  notes  for 
the  speech  in  which  he  urged  a  kind  of  pastoral  profes- 
sorship for  the  college-boys,  and  his  long  report  as  chair- 
man of  the  committee  appointed  to  investigate  the 
subject,  would  seem  to  indicate  that  the  measure  owed 
its  success  in  no  small  part  to  his  earnestness. 

Over  the  Divinity  School  he  watched  as  a  grateful 
son  with  very  special  love.  Once  before,  when  it  was 
in  danger  from  the  lack  of  funds,  he  had  worked  among 
its  saviors.  In  1857  there  was  long  talk  about  its  reor- 
ganization, and  the  directors  of  the  "  Society  for  Pro- 
moting Theological  Education  "  held  many  conferences 
to  promote  the  scheme.  He  was  among  the  most  zeal- 
ous of  the  schemers,  and  his  hope  embodied  large  change. 
The  School  should  be  adapted,  he  thought,  to  the  two 
classes  of  men  that  offered  themselves  to  the  ministry, 
and  were  needed  by  the  churches,  —  those  with,  and 
those  without,  a  thorough  education :  a  two,  a  three, 
and  a  four  years'  course  would  best  meet  the  want,  of 
which  time  a  fourth  part,  more  or  less,  should  be  spent 
with  a  settled  minister  in  getting  practical  acquaintance 
with  the  life  ;  the  students  should  live  in  private  fami- 
lies, not  camped  together  in  a  monastery ;  an  inspiring 
principal,  a  professor  of  Biblical  study,  and  an  outside 
corps  of  lecturers,  —  settled  ministers,  —  should  furnish 
the  instruction.  These  were  the  leading  features  of  the 
''Plan  of  a  Theological  School"  according  to  his  ideal, 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  217 

or  according  to  his  vision  of  what  might  be  made  real. 
It  proved  but  a  dream,  however,  then :  the  only  result 
attained  by  all  the* schemes  and  talk  was  the  appoint- 
ment of  two  non-resident  professors. 

Antioch  College  in  Ohio  was  winning  reputation  at 
this  time  under  that  rarest  of  inspirers,  Horace  Mann, 
but  had  been  so  sadly  crippled  by  early  errors  in  its 
management  that  some  great  effort  was  needed  to  save 
it  from  financial  bankruptcy.  It  was  the  unsectarian 
college  of  the  West ;  it  was  a  college  where  the  experi- 
ment of  coeducation  of  young  men  and  women  was 
on  trial  with  rich  promise  of  success ;  and  the  moral 
standard  aimed  at  was  so  high  as  to  make  it  in  still  a 
third  way  an  experiment.  Emulation  had  been  entirely 
discarded  as  a  motive  to  study ;  and  the  President,  act- 
ing on  the  belief  that  his  college  was  to  form  character 
as  well  as  mind,  had  publicly  promised  that  no  one  of 
vicious  habits,  whatever  else  he  might  be,  should  ever 
receive  the  diploma  of  graduation  from  his  hands. 
Antioch  must  have  rescue  at  the  hands  of  Unitarians. 
Half  well-disposed,  half-doubtful.  Dr.  Gannett  went 
Westward  and  attended  its  Commencement  in  1857. 
He  returned  to  be  its  eager  advocate  before  the  denomi- 
nation ;  and  his  word  carried  weight.v  Among  other 
modes  of  urging  it,  he  published  in  the  "  Quarterly  "  of 
the  Unitarian  Association  a  plea,  which  President  Mann 
wrote  him  was  "  of  inestimable  price."  '•  No  man,"  said 
another  of  its  champions,  — ''  no  man  could  do  as  much 
as  you  have  done  to  propitiate  the  good-will  and  confi- 
dence of  the  Unitarian  body  towards  the  Institution." 


A  great  event  in  the  quiet  life  was  now  at  hand. 
The   home   so   much   endeared  by  its  associations,   so 


278  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-1865. 

much  profaned  by  change,  was  at  last  abandoned  for  a 
snug  house  in  a  crevice  running  in  from  Boylston  Street. 
But  —  event  greater  far  !  —  the  people  had  at  last  decided 
to  leave  Federal  Street  Church  !  To  the  minister's  feeling 
life  held  few  incidents  that  meant  so  much.  The  old 
shrir  e  was  very  dear,  and  the  spot  itself  historic.  Its  first 
ha  1  wing  dated  back  to  Boston's  lane-ancl-pasture  era. 
The  primitive  meeting-house  appears  to  have  been  a 
barn  on  "  Long  Lane  "  made  over  in  1729  by  a  party  of 
Scotch-Irish  settlers  who  brought  their  Presbyterian 
discipline  into  this  heart  of  Congregationalism.  The 
building  before  long  erected  in  its  place  became  memo- 
rable in  1788  ;  for  there  the  Massachusetts  Convention 
adopted  the  Federal  Constitution,  —  an  occasion  that 
gave  the  street  its  more  honorable  name.  Just  before 
this  happened,  the  society  had  voted  to  give  up  their 
old  fellowship  and  join  the  Congregational  neighbors. 
A  few  years  later  young  Channing  was  preaching  in  the 
pulpit  of  what  had  by  that  time  become  a  little  "  Lib- 
eral" parish;  and  the  third  meeting-house  was  that 
which  his  attractiveness  speedily  made  necessary  to 
hold  the  growing  congregation,  and  then  made  famous 
as  the  cradle  of  Unitarianism.  For  a  long  time  now  it 
had  lingered  among  the  warehouses  and  the  swarming 
population  of  the  b3^-street  tenements,  a  relic  of  the  past. 
Three  attempts  to  procure  a  new  site  that  all  would  like 
had  failed,  because  some  of  the  old  worshippers  clung 
so  fondly  to  the  wonted  place.  "  I  am  sorely  disap- 
pointed," the  pastor  wrote  after  one  such  veto,  "  and  at 
first  felt  that  my  only  course  is  to  resign  my  ministry ; 
for  I  consider  it  a  suicidal  decision,  as  the  society  must 
crumble  away  where  they  are,  and  I  cannot  consent  to 
see  it  perish  in  my  hands.  The  indifference,  of  course, 
is  a  consequence  of  my  ill  success  as  a  minister."     A 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON,  279 

fourth  effort  resulted  in  a  vote  to  move  to  the  "  new 
land  "  which  Boston  was  creating  for  itself  out  of  its 
hugging  waters.  And,  so  far  as  the  choice  of  location 
was  concerned,  the  departure  proved,  after  all,  well- 
timed  ;  for  the  congregation,  being  the  first  to  move  in 
that  direction,  secured  the  beautiful  site  just  ready  on 
Arlington  Street  fronting  the  Public  Garden.  Within 
the  dozen  years  since  they  settled  there,  a  goodly  com- 
pany of  towers  and  steeples,  most  of  them  the  homes  of 
exiles  fleeing  like  themselves  before  the  push  of  busi- 
ness, has  risen  in  still  newer  streets  beyond. 

One  day  in  March  of  1859  the  high-backed  pews 
were  crowded  by  friends  to  hear  and  look  the  last  good- 
bye. The  pastor's  morning  sermon  sketched  the  history 
of  the  meeting-house ;  and  in  the  afternoon  nine  other 
ministers,  all  children  of  the  church,  though  not  all 
bearing  still  its  denominational  name,  gathered  around 
him  in  the  large  old-fashioned  pulpit  to  take  part  in  the 
closing  service.  The  pilgrims  were  very  reverent.  A 
carefully  made  model  preserves  for  future  generations 
both  the  outside  and  the  inside  aspect  of  the  church, 
while  parts  of  Dr.  Channing's  pulpit  were  wrought 
into  furniture  for  the  new  vestry  and  into  tokens  for 
the  relic-lovers. 

Nearly  three  years  of  tabernacle-life  passed  by  before 
the  new  temple  stood  ready  for  its  dedication.  The 
graceful  building  was  significant  of  the  changes  which 
half  a  century  had  wrought  in  Boston  culture.  With 
proud  rejoicings,  —  to  judge  by  an  ode  written  at  the 
time,  —  the  fathers  in  1809  had  turned  their  wood  to 
brick.  Their  children  transfigured  the  plain  brick  to 
freestone  and  the  architecture  of  the  Italian  Renais- 
sance. The  pulpit  descended  nearer  to  the  people,  and 
the  pews  a  little  lowered  their  backs ;   but  their  but- 


280  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1852-1865. 

toned  doors,  and  the  galler}'  with  its  separate  row  of 
windows,  and  the  high-perched  organ-loft  and  white 
walls  untouched  by  fresco,  keep  up,  amid  the  arches 
and  the  stately  columns  and  the  richly  moulded  panels, 
a  pleasant  feeling  as  of  elder  ways.  An  aged  deacon, 
one  of  Dr.  Channing's  generation,  outlived  his  friend 
just  long  enough  to  add  as  his  gift  the  chime  of  bells. 

The  dedication  sermon  no  less  significantly  hinted, 
in  its  way,  the  change  in  Boston  faith.  The  previous 
church  had  been  erected  in  a  time  of  theologic  stir  by 
Liberals  standing  consciously  on  the  verge  of  a  great 
heresy.  Now  the  whole  Unitarian  controvers}^  lay  dim 
in  the  years  behind.  A  cycle  of  thought  had  been  com- 
pleted, and  men  were  growing  conscious  of  another  wide 
suspense  of  faith.  The  minister  in  Federal  Street  read 
the  omens  well.  He  dedicated  the  new  church  to  a 
positive  Christian  Faith.  The  necessity  and  glory  of 
strong  conviction  in  religion  was  his  theme  :  "  I  am  not 
come  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil."  To  fortify  faith  rather 
than  encourage  doubt,  to  urge  truth  possessed  rather 
than  seek  to  find  new  truth  or  to  abolish  error  by  attack, 
was  the  function  of  the  Christian  Church,  as  in  old 
time,  so  in  new,  he  said;  for  Faith  —  Faith  as  a  mighty 
assurance  of  truth  believed  —  was  the  secret  of  the 
highest  character,  the  loftiest  purpose,  the  most  glori- 
ous achievement,  was  the  cement  of  society  no  less 
than  the  bond  which  unites  earth  to  heaven.  Neither 
doubt  nor  unbelief  was  sinfuL  Scepticism  had  its 
rights,  and  had  done  good  :  Christendom  at  this  day 
held  a  surer  faith  because  of  its  jealous  inspections. 
But  denial,  as  a  habit  and  delight,  impoverished  the 
mind,  starved  the  heart,  beggared  the  conscience. 
Freedom  was  neither  the  end  of  life  nor  a  means  to 
that  end;  it  was  nothing  but  an  opportunity.      Free 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  281 

Inquiry  was  a  method,  not  a  result.  The  New  Testa- 
ment merel}^  pronounced  an  axiom  of  the  spiritual  life, 
in  declaring  with  such  stress  that  they  who  live  without 
Faith  must  perish. 

"  Criticism  has  its  place  and  its  value.  Religion  neither 
abliors  nor  dreads  it.  Christianity  neither  despises  it,  nor 
trembles  before  it.  Let  the  Bible,  the  gospel,  the  teachings 
of  the  Cluirch,  the  beliefs  of  the  past,  the  assertions  of  the 
present,  be  subjected  to  the  most  severe  and  impartial  ex- 
amination. Detect  every  blemish,  expose  every  weakness; 
cross-examine  the  witnesses,  canvass  the  miracles;  tear  the 
diadem  of  glory,  or  the  crown  of  thorns,  if  you  can,  from  the 
head  of  the  Anointed  One;  analyze,  dissect,  curtail,  decry 
revelation ;  lay  bare  or  overturn  the  foundations  of  faith : 
so  long  as  all  this,  or  any  part  of  it,  is  done,  as  all  honest 
work  should  be  done,  with  a  good  purpose,  and  by  fiir 
means,  let  it  be  done.  But  it  does  not  belong  to  the  Church 
to  carry  on  this  process.  It  may  permit  certain  parts  of 
the  work  to  be  conducted  within  its  borders;  but  it  is  not 
the  business  of  the  Church,  through  its  officers  or  its  ser- 
vants, to  make  men  doubt.  Who  ever  thought  it  was  one 
of  the  functions  of  government  to  foster  rebellion,  or  of  a 
tribunal  to  destroy  confidence  in  its  own  decisions?"  .  .  . 

"  Faith,  as  it  stands  in  the  Bible,  is  a  grand  and  glori- 
ous word.  It  sweeps  over  the  universe  in  its  significance; 
mounts  up  to  the  throne  of  God,  and  lays  a  reverential  hand 
on  the  attributes  of  the  Most  High ;  runs  through  the  past 
to  the  beginning,  when  the  heavens  and  the  earth  were 
made ;  reaches  forward,  till  it  grasps  the  results  of  the  Divine 
government  and  human  agency  through  the  periods  of  an 
endless  duration;  and  brings  within  the  mighty  burthen  of 
its  meaning  the  spiritual  realities  which  science  cannot 
measure,  and  philosophy  cannot  reach.  Let  not  the  dogma- 
tist nor  the  bigot  degrade  it  to  the  uses  for  which  alone  they 
think  it  fit.  Shall  the  sword  with  which  Michael  drove  the 
arch-fiend  from  heaven  be  seized  by  every  puny  arm  that 


282  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1852-1865. 

would  lay  an  adversary  low  ?  I  ask  neither  one  school  nor 
another,  the  philologist  nor  the  theologian,  to  give  me  the 
definition  of  faith :  I  find  a  better  than  they  can  furnish  in 
the  text,  which,  in  the  only  terms  commensurate  with  the 
height  and  breadth  of  its  true  import,  declares  that  'faith  is 
the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things 
not  seen.'  .  .  . 

"  If,  under  the  restrictions  of  the  gospel  history  or  the 
requisitions  of  the  Christian  argument,  the  word  obtain  an 
immediate  connection  with  him  who  is  pronounced  the  'Au- 
thor and  Finisher  of  our  faith,'  it  does  not  lose  the  broad 
and  lofty  character  which  we  have  ascribed  to  it.  It  is  still 
belief  in  f  icts  of  which  the  senses  do  not  take  cognizance, 
and  in  truths  disclosed  to  a  higher  faculty  than  reason. 
Man's  chief  endowment  being  that  through  which  he  ac- 
quaints himself  with  God,  reason  is  not  his  highest  endow- 
ment. The  reason  points  to  God,  but  does  not  lead  us  to 
him,  simply  because  it  cannot.  Reason  may  legitimate  the 
processes  of  the  spiritual  understanding,  but  it  cannot  create 
them.  Neither  can  the  spiritual  understanding,  by  which  I 
mean  the  religious  faculty  in  our  nature,  educe  them  from  itself. 
They  must  be  awakened  by  an  external  influence,  as  the  life 
of  the  plant  must  be  stimulated  by  the  air.  That  influence  ob- 
tains access  to  the  soul  through  the  consent  of  faith.  Revela- 
tion is  an  indispensable  necessity  of  man,  if  he  would  realize 
the  fact  or  obey  the  law  of  his  own  perfection.  .  .  .  What 
reason  cannot  do,  faith  will  do,  —  connect  the  soul  with  God 
by  availing  itself  of  the  soul's  receptivity  of  Divine  influence. 
Christ  awakens  this  receptivity,  and  then  supplies  the  soul 
with  the  knowledge  and  the  aid,  of  its  want  of  which  it 
may  have  been  but  faintly  conscious  before  his  approach. 
,  .  .  The  gospel  seeks  man  as  made  for  God,  yet  as  having 
through  sin  lost  sight  of  God ;  and,  by  its  disclosures  of  the 
character,  mercy,  and  will  of  the  Heavenly  Father,  enables 
him  to  lay  hold  on  that  knowledge  which  is  '  eternal  life.' 

"Now,  what  relation  has  reason  to  this  history  of  the  re- 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  283 

generated  and  perfected  soul  ?  The  relations,  first,  of  herald, 
and  next  of  interpreter;  in  the  first  instance  authenticating 
by  proper  tests  the  credentials  of  the  messenger  from  God, 
and  then  determining  by  just  methods  what  meaning  should 
be  put  upon  his  instruction,  even  as  Daniel,  in  the  presence  of 
the  Babylonian  monarch,  pronounced  the  hand  which  traced 
the  mysterious  characters  on  the  wall  to  have  been  sent  by 
God,  and  then  gave  the  interpretation  of  the  writing.  Rea- 
son is  neither  ignored  nor  undervalued  by  the  believer ;  but 
it  is  neither  exalted  above  revelation,  nor  lifted  into  equal 
dignity  with  it.  Its  place  is  not  on  the  top  of  the  mountain, 
by  the  side  of  Him  who  taught  the  multitude,  but  with 
them,  listening  with  reverent  admiration.  It  should  stand 
at  the  foot  of  Calvary,  not  with  the  scornful  exclamation, 
*Let  him  now  come  down  from  the  cross  and  we  will  believe 
him;'  but  with  the  awe-struck  confession,  'Truly,  this  was 
the  Son  of  God.'" 

By  planting,  strengthening,  extending  Faith  posi- 
tively, not  negatively,  he  repeated,  had  the  Church 
prospered  in  the  past :  only  by  increasing  Faith  in  the 
same  way  could  it  in  the  future  prosper.  It  was  its 
function,  for  example,  to  stand  for  the  reverence  due  to 
the  Bible  as  the  store-house  of  divine  influence,  for  that 
stupendous  fact  of  Mediation  which  constitutes  the 
thread  of  its  history,  for  the  solemn  doctrine  of  Retribu- 
tion and  the  indestructible  relations  which  exist  between 
righteousness  and  happiness,  sin  and  suffering,  in  this 
life  and  the  life  to  come,  —  to  stand  positively  for  these 
faiths  rather  than  to  lend  its  strength  to  nurturing  the 
temper  which  distrusts  them. 

"  Who  can  conceive  of  the  change  that  would  come  over 
the  prospects  of  truth,  if,  instead  of  cavil,  doubt,  or  denial, 
we  set  ourselves  to  the  task  of  exposition,  defence,  and  en- 
treaty.    Entreaty  !    why,   the   truth  itself  persuades   men, 


284  EZRA    STILES    GANNETT.        [1852-1865. 

when  they  can  see  and  hear  it,  as  if  an  angel  spake  to  them. 
What  results  has  not  the  preaching  of  a  single  truth  often 
wrought  in  character  and  in  society !  When  I  observe  how 
much  may  be  done  in  recommending  eiTor  by  an  earnest 
advocacy,  I  long  to  see  those  who  hold  the  simple  gospel  go 
forth  in  God's  name,  and  call  their  fellow-men  to  salvation 
with  the  irresistible  voice  of  strong  belief.  Oh!  were  we 
ourselves  moved  as  we  should  be  by  that  one  short  line, 
'  Our  Father,  who  art  in  Heaven,'  would  it  not  be  the  very 
sword  of  the  Spirit  in  our  hands,  with  which  to  strike  down 
the  rebellion  and  self-will  of  men?  Rather  would  it  not 
be  as  music  which  arrests  the  busy,  and  cheers  the  weary, 
and  fills  the  heart  with  a  strange  delight  ?  If  any  one  of  us 
could  go  out  into  the  world,  believing  what  those  six  words 
convey  with  his  whole,  whole  heart,  and  preach  it  as  he  then 
could  not  help  preaching  it,  it  would  sink  into  other  hearts 
as  the  rain  nito  thirsty  ground,  to  soften  and  enrich  and 
clothe  it  with  a  perpetual  verdure.  Ay,  give  to  the  weak- 
est of  us  such  a  faith  as  we  all  may  have,  and  Napoleon's 
victories  would  be  nursery-tales  in  comparison  with  the 
conquests  he  might  achieve."  .  .  . 


"  We  dedicate  our  house  of  prayer  in  troubled  times, 
when  the  sight  of  armed  men  is  familiar  in  our  streets." 
The  words  are  not  needed  to  remind  us  that  we  must 
now  turn  far  back  in  our  story.  One  thread  firmly 
twisted  into  this  life,  as  into  the  life  of  every  American 
during  the  years  of  which  this  chapter  and  the  last  one 
treat,  has  been  purposely  omitted  hitherto,  that  it  might 
be  drawn  out  by  itself. 

Dr.  Gannett  was  poorly  fitted  to  take  part  with  other 
men  in  any  work  to  which  he  could  not  give  the  whole 
of  himself.  His  conscience,  once  engaged,  made  him 
the  closest,  truest  of  allies.      It  also  hindered  much 


1852-1865.]     ANTI-SLAVERY  AND    WAR    TIMES.      285 

alliance.  "  No  man  had  more  the  courage  of  his  opin- 
ions than  he,"  says  one  who  knew  him  well,  and  differed 
widely  from  him.  To  belong  to  a  party  was  to  labor 
for  it,  give  his  name  and  time  and  strength  to  it,  accept 
its  foremost  duties,  bear  its  reproaches,  and  be  its  cham- 
pion everywhere.  But,  where  he  was  to  co-operate,  he 
needed  to  see  not  only  a  right  end  in  view,  but  what,  in 
his  own  eyes,  were  right  motives  and  right  methods. 
He  could  not  go  hand-in-hand  with  men  who  used  what 
he  deemed  outrage,  even  to  overthrow  what  he  might 
at  the  same  time  deem  much  greater  wrong.  A  cause 
might  have  his  deepest  sympathy,  while  its  specific  party, 
if  unjust  in  urging  it,  in  vain  would  claim  his  presence : 
he  had  to  be  absent  or  be  untruthful  to  himself.  And 
the  same  courage  of  opinions  that  marked  his  adherence 
was  apt  to  make  him  outspoken  in  opposition. 

For  several  reasons,  therefore,  in  the  long  Anti- 
Slavery  crusade  he  could  never  join  the  band  of  brave 
crusaders  ;  and  they  regarded  him  as  more  hostile  te 
them  than  almost  any  other  Unitarian  minister.  The 
time  may  not  yet  have  come  for  doing  such  men  as  he 
full  justice  for  the  stand  they  took.  Those  who  at  the 
time  condemned  them  bitterly  would  still  condemn,  no 
doubt ;  yet  some,  perhaps,  would  moderate  their  past 
words,  if  they  could.  ''  Anti-slavery  "  he  always  was, 
but  slaver}^  was  the  thing  abhorred :  it  did  not  follow 
that  the  slave-holders  necessarily  deserved  abhorrence, 
nor  that  their  institution  was  a  wrong  to  be  righted  by 
fiercel}^  lashing  tongue  more  than  by  fierce  attack  of 
hand.  The  Abolitionists  seemed  to  him  to  systemati- 
cally denounce  all  at  South  or  North  who  did  not 
accept  their  watch- words.  —  They  also  seemed  to  ignore 
responsibility  for  the  likely  consequences  of  the  watch- 
words.    To  him  likely  consequence  was  part  of  a  word 


286  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-1865. 

or  a  deed,  and  one  could  not  lightly  discharge  himself 
from  liability  for  it.  He  saw  that  a  Northern  demand  for 
"  immediate  emancipation  "  meant  "  disunion,"  and  did 
not  see  that  disunion  would  bring  relief  to  the  enslaved  : 
he  thought  it  certain  to  bring  worse  enslavement.  He 
saw  that  complex  issues  of  civilization  were  involved  in 
any  deep  cure  of  the  evil,  and  that  the  most  valuable 
results  of  civilization  would  be  imperilled  by  its  rash 
treatment.  The  stopping  of  the  outrage  where  it  ex- 
isted, not  a  mere  Northern  avoidance  —  more  nominal 
than  real  —  of  participation  in  it,  was  the  end  in  view,  — 
and  an  end  that  could  be  reached  only  by  influence, 
not  compulsion,  he  believed.  His  own  standard  of 
rio'ht  was  ideal ;  but  where  hostile  minds  were  to  be 
brought  to  the  ideal,  he  was  a  man  of  methods  rather 
than  of  ''  watch- words."  He  was  under  bonds  of  his 
nature  to  work  towards  the  absolute  right  by  helping  to 
make  actual  the  best  right  possible.  By  constitution  he 
belonged  to  the  class  who  calculate  practical  effects  and 
have  to  act  accordingly  in  the  "causes." — Moreover, — it 
is  but  saying  the  same  thing  in  a  more  specific  way, — he 
was  too  good  a  Peace-man  to  be  an  Abolitionist ;  for  he 
saw  what  some  Abolitionists  could  not,  and  others  would 
not,  see,  that  disunion  almost  certainly  meant  war. 
And  that  meant,  besides  all  other  horror,  failure  of  the 
Republic  and  shock  to  the  great  cause  of  popular  gov- 
ernment throughout  the  world.  — And  finally,  apart  from 
that  reason  for  his  devotion  to  the  Union,  the  whole 
strength  of  his  nature,  conscious  and  unconscious,  was 
reverent  to  organic  order  and  visible  law.  The  same 
predispositions  that  in  religious  thought  kept  him  so 
firmly  planted  on  the  authority  of  an  outward  revela- 
tion, that  in  all  lo^^alties  made  him  so  strenuously  true, 
also  made  him  one  who  only  in  the  very  last  extreme 


1852-1865.]     ANTI-SLAVERY  AND    WAR  TIMES.       287 

could  have  ventured  on  immediate  anarchy  to  compass 
a  higher  future  peace. 

As  year  by  year  the  nation  neared  its  woe,  feeling,  on 
both  sides  deepened.  Many  at  the  North,  who  stood 
quiet  through  the  Texan  annexation,  burst  out  in  protest 
when  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill,  in  1850,  by  legalizing  better 
modes  of  capture,  turned  their  Free  States  at  last  into 
good  slave-hunting  grounds,  and  when  they  saw  black 
neighbors  actually  caught  back  from  their  consenting 
streets  to  doom.  Others,  who  gnashed  their  teeth,  but 
kept  lips  shut  at  that,  remembering  the  old  compact 
on  which  the  Republic  had  been  built,  felt  patience 
suddenly  desert  them  when  the  Missouri  Compromise 
was  broken  by  the  planters  and  their  friends  in  1854, 
and  new  teri-itory  was  thrown  open  to  the  encroaching 
curse.  There  had  been  a  day  of  mobs  against  Emanci- 
pation lecturers  in  the  North  :  now  came  a  day  of  mobs 
to  rescue  fugitives  for  freedom.  Among  others  who 
changed  ground  were  the  Unitarian  ministers.  A  few  of 
them  had  long  been  leading  Abolitionists :  many  now 
enlisted  in  the  ranks.  In  their  meetings,  anti-slavery 
resolutions  had  at  first  been  put  aside  as  irrelevant,  then 
mild  votes  were  passed,  and  finally  majorities  grew 
earnest. 

But  Dr.  Gannett  held  fast  his  first  belief  that  the  sub- 
ject was  irrelevant  to  the  purpose  of  those  meetings,  and 
he  uniformly  opposed  the  introduction  of  such  resolu- 
tions. Certain  expressions  that  probably  fell  from  his  lips 
on  these  occasions  in  some  excited  moment  of  debate  are 
still  held  in  stern  remembrance  b}^  the  old  champions, 
then  figliting  against  such  heavy  social  odds.  It  is  said 
—  he  only  believed  it  himself  because  men  like  the  Mays 
were  willing  to  take  oath  the  words  were  truly  re- 
ported—  that  he  called  the  Abolitionist  temper  "the 


288  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT,         [1852-1865. 

hellish  sphit  alive  and  active  here  in  our  very  midst, 
even  in  New  England,  which  left  little  comparative 
need  for  us  to  go  South  to  rebuke  an  evil ; "  and  he  is 
charged  with  having  said,  after  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill 
had  been  passed,  that  "  the  perpetuity  of  the  Union 
depended  on  the  support  of  that  law,"  and  that  "  he 
should  feel  it  to  be  his  duty  to  turn  away  from  his  door 
a  fugitive  slave,  unfed,  unaided  in  any  way,  rather  than 
set  at  naught  the  law  of  the  land."  If  he  ever  said  that 
last,  he  had  unsaid  it  before  as  he  unsaid  it  afterwards, 
by  intimating  in  published  sermons  what  he  really 
would  do  in  the  case.  At  one  of  these  Unitarian  meet- 
ings,—  it  was  in  1851,  just  after  Mr.  Sims  had  been 
restored  to  slavery,  —  he  rose,  after  a  denunciation  of 
the  commissioner  who  had  ordered  the  return,  to  urge 
that  the  officer  had  acted  ''  from  convictions  of  his  con- 
stitutional obligations  as  an  upholder  of  law  and  as  a 
good  citizen,  and  that  a  wrong  was  done  b}^  the  resolu- 
tions in  stigmatizing  him  as  a  '  cruel '  man  because  of 
that  return."     The  word  was  cancelled. 

The  other  saddest  week  that  Boston  ever  knew  came 
three  years  later.     Rev.  John  Parkman  writes  :  — 

"I  stayed  at  your  father's  house  during  Anniversary 
Week,  in  the  spring  of  1854.  During  that  week  Burns  was 
arrested,  tried,  and  sent  back  to  the  South.  While  the  trial 
was  going  on,  Dr.  Gannett  never  lost  an  opportunity  of 
having  a  fling  at  the  Abolitionists.  I  was  accustomed  to 
hear  him  denounce  their  violence  and  fanaticism,  with  a  due 
degree  of  patience ;  but  sharing  in  the  excitement  of  this 
particular  juncture,  being  in  fact  a  member  of  the  Vigilance 
Committee,  I  did  not  listen  to  him  as  patiently  as  I  was 
accustomed  to  do.  I  was  especially  annoyed  by  the  —  as  it 
seemed  to  me  —  indiflx>rcnt  and  unfeeling  way  in  which  he 
spoke  of  the  j^oor  fugitive  slave.     'What  an  ado  about  a 


1852-1865.]    ANTI-SLAVERY  AND    WAR    TIMES.       289 

mere  single  incident  of  slavery?'  'What  good  is  going  to 
come  of  all  this  excitement?'  'What  is  one  man  set  ao^ainst 
the  continuance  and  safety  of  the  Union?'  he  said,  among 
other  things.  I  finally  proposed  to  him  that  we  should  not 
discuss  the  matter  further.  This  state  of  things  lasted  two 
or  three  days.  On  the  day  ^vhen  Burns  w\as  giv^en  up,  the 
first  i^erson  whom  I  met  on  entering  his  house  was  Dr.  Gan- 
nett. '  Is  it  true  that  he  has  been  surrendered  ? '  he  asked, 
in  those  plaintive  tones  which  all  who  knew  him  well  re- 
member. On  my  replying  'Yes,'  he  threw  himself  into  a 
chair,  buried  his  fxce  in  his  hands,  and  then,  in  a  voice  broken 
by  sobbing,  burst  out,  '  O  God,  forgive  this  guilty  nation ! 
What  will  become  of  us?  what  dreadful  judgments  are  in 
store  for  us  ? '  He  said  more,  that  I  do  not  remember  exactly, 
but  these  particular  words  I  am  sure  he  used.  He  recovered 
himself  in  a  few  minutes,  but  was  miserably  depressed 
through  the  wiiole  day.  I  met  no  one  during  that  w^eek 
who  seemed  to  take  so  much  to  heart  the  event  which  made 
it  so  sad  and  memorable. 

"I  am  quite  aware  that  what  I  have  just  written  adds 
emphasis  to  the  question.  How,  then,  do  you  explain  the 
silence  in  the  pulpit  of  this  strong  hater  of  slavery,  and  his 
counsel  to  others  to  follow  his  example  ?  I  will  only  say  that 
whoever  discusses  that  question  is  in  duty  bound  to  keep 
this  truth  in  mind,  —  that  specific  acts  or  omissions  ouo-ht 
obviously  to  be  interpreted  in  the  light  of  character  viewed 
as  a  whole.  Those  who  think  that  Dr.  Gannett's  course  in 
reference  to  slavery  was  determined  by  unworthy  considera- 
tions, by  shameful  timidities,  by  lack  of  conscientiousness, 
hint  at  anomalies  of  character  in  which  no  candid,  no  wise 
man  believes. 

"  I  have  witnessed  other  similar  struggles  between  oppos- 
ing tendencies  in  your  father's  intellect  and  temperament. 
I  used  to  tell  him  when  he  talked  about  his  having  a  sinful 
nature,  and  how  he  lelt  wicked  when  he  rode  on  Sunday,  that 
he  had  his  ancestors'  Calvinism  in  his  bones.     On  the  other 

19 


290  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-1865. 

hand,  lie  liad  a  horror  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  that  I 
never  witnessed  in  any  one  else.  He  looked  on  Trinitari- 
anism  as  a  kind  of  idokitry,  an  impiety ! 

"Then,  again,  I  remember  his  saying  with  the  utmost 
warmth  he  never  would  recognize  Parker  as  a  Christian 
minister,  by  exchanges  with  him.  Yet  there  was  no  minis- 
ter for  whom  Parker  had  a  greater  esteem,  or  against  whom 
he  made,  so  little  complaint.  If  I  remember  rightly,  he  some- 
where expresses  this  feeling  in  print." 

Here  is  the  daughter's  memory  of  the  same  week :  — 

"  I  do  think  Father's  love  for  Order  should  be  emphasized : 
it  was  more  than  that,  it  was  loyalty  to  the  powers  that  be, — 
to  God,  to  the  government,  to  elderly  people,  all  represent- 
ing authority ;  and  this  leaning  on  his  part  sjjrang  from  his 
Puritanical  child-life  and  his  humility.  I  don't  know  whether 
Father  ever  said  he  would  turn  from  his  door,  &c.,  I  don't 
believe  he  ever  did,  and  I  know  he  did  say  on  the  Burns  day 
that  he  would  shelter  the  slave,  and  then  offer  himself  to  the 
law  on  his  own  confession.  I  know  that  he  expressed  dis- 
approbation at  our  school-girls  having  stood  at  the  window 
to  watch  the  rendition.  I  know  that  he  then  said  to  me  it 
was  right,  but  a  terrible  day  to  witness,  and  that  it  almost 
persuaded  him  that  it  would  be  better  not  to  obey,  and  then 
(this  a  strong  impression),  '  N'o,  obey  now !  but  the  revolution 
must  come,  and  such  a  general  revolution  is  not  disobedi- 
ence.' I  knoio  that  I  said  to  him,  '  What  if  the  slave  came 
to  your  door?'  and  I  know  that  he  answered  solemnly,  'I 
have  thought  of  that;  and  if  he  comes  to-night,  or  any  time, 
I  should  shelter  him  and  aid  him  to  go  further  on  to  Canada, 
and  then  I  should  go  and  give  myself  up  to  prison,  and  insist 
on  being  made  a  prisonei',  would  accept  of  no  release ;  (for '  — 
this  in  brackets  a  strong  impression  —  'I  have  decided  what 
to  do  as  an  individual  against  the  government,  and  therefore 
I  sliould  abide  the  result.')  I  know  that  I  have  heard  him 
say  the  same  to  others,  for  his  manner  when  speaking  of  rt 


1852-1865.]     ANTI-SLAVERY  AND   WAR   TIMES.       291 

could  never  be  forgotten.  It  was  intensely  quiet  and  deter- 
mined, his  hands  clenched,  and  he  set  his  teeth  each  time. 
I  know  it.  And  it  shows  the  struc^gjle  and  the  man  and  the 
conscience  and  the  thought,  Loyalty  to  the  Law.  It  has  a 
very  glorious  side." 

To  Mrs.  S.  W.  Bush  we  owe  this  vivid  recollection  of 
another  scene  in  the  anti-slavery  times ;  — 

"  Years  and  years  ago  I  saw  advertised  a  meeting  to  be 
held  in  Boylston  Hall,  by  the  Unitarian  ministers,  for  the  dis- 
cussion of  some  point  relating  to  the  actual  work  of  the  body. 
Though  not  then  in  the  habit  of  attending  such  meetings,  I 
went  to  this  one.  The  audience  was  small,  but  most  of  the 
well-known  preachers  of  the  day  were  present.  The  subject 
(which  I  have  forgotten)  was  announced,  and  some  one  rose 
to  open  the  discussion.  As  soon  as  he  took  his  seat,  Mr. 
S.  J.  May  rose.  I  need  not  tell  you  what  was  his  subject,  or 
how  he  brought  it  to  bear.  Brows  clouded,  the  gentlemen 
on  the  platform  became  uneasy,  faint  cries  at  first,  then 
louder,  of '  order,'  *  order,'  appeals  to  the  chairman  to  stop  the 
speaker,  as  he  was  introducing  a  subject  entirely  irrelevant 
to  the  one  under  discussion.  Mr.  May  stood  firm,  erect, 
waiting  for  the  storm  to  subside,  endeavoring  to  put  in  his 
word,  yet  without  clamor.  Once  he  took  his  seat,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  the  meeting  would  coine  to  order,  and  the 
proposed  subject  be  again  brought  up;  but  some  one  rose 
who  wished  to  prove  that  the  anti-slavery  work  was  en- 
tirely outside  of  the  ministerial  work,  that  it  belonged  to 
13olitics,  not  religion.  Again  Mr.  May  was  on  his  feet,  enter- 
ing his  earnest  protest  against  such  atheism  as  that.  A 
dozen  ministers  started  up  to  refute  him ;  they  threatened  to 
put  a  stop  to  the  meeting  if  Mr.  May  was  not  silenced.  At 
that  moment  a  sound  was  heard  from  the  midst  of  the  audi- 
ence, a  hand  fell  with  more  than  the  weight  of  the  speaker's 
gavel,  and  the  uproar  was  quieted,  as  your  father  rose,  pale, 
emaciated,  from  recent  illness,  but  with  such  a  light  in  his 


292  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

eye,  such  power  in  that  voice,  as  he  said :  '  Brethren,  I  suppose 
there  is  no  one  here  less  able  to  be  present  than  myself;  but 
I  will  sit  till  morning,  before  I  see  Brother  May  put  down. 
I  do  not  sympathize  with  him  in  many  of  his  views  or  his 
ways  of  carrying  them  out,  but  I  claim  for  him  as  for  all 
others  liberty  of  speech.'  He  sank  exhausted  into  his  seat, 
but  those  few  words  had  thrilled  every  heart.  Mr.  May  was 
accorded  the  floor,  and,  himself  deeply  touched  by  this  plea 
fv^r  him,  made  only  a  short  statement  of  his  ideas  and  with- 
drew, leaving  the  subject  for  which  the  meeting  had  been 
called  to  be  quietly  discussed.  I  do  not  believe  any  one 
present  could  ever  forget  the  majesty  which  seemed  to  fill  and 
surround  your  father,  as  he  stood  up  in  his  bodily  weakness, 
the  vindicator  of  perfect  liberty  of  speech.  It  was  a  glorious 
moment,  one  full  of  inspiration ;  and  I  doubt  not  went  forth 
into  many  lives,  as  I  am  sure  it  did  into  mine,  to  leave  its 
imj^ress  indelibly  upon  the  character." 

Nor  is  this  the  only  story  of  the  kind  remembered  of 
him.  At  a  Unitarian  Convention  in  Salem  where  the 
Fugitive  Slave  Law  was  under  discussion,  and  James 
Freeman  Clarke  was  about  to  be  put  down  by  parlia- 
mentary ruling  after  one  of  Dr.  Gannett's  earnest 
speeches,  the  speaker  was  again  upon  his  feet,  pleading 
that  the  Convention  be  guided  by  the  higher  Christian 
rule,  even  if  it  sacrificed  the  parliamentary  one :  the 
members  had  listened  to  him,  it  was  but  justice  for 
them  to  hear  the  other  side.     And  it  was  done. 

Had  he  lived  at  the  South,  with  the  outrage  within 
sight  and  hearing,  the  same  demand  for  justice  would 
have  been  very  apt  to  place  him  high  in  the  calendar  of 
anti-slavery  martyrs.  It  was  this  same  instinct  which 
made  him  so  careful  to  own  that  Southerners  might, 
in  good  faith  and  without  wilful  sin,  believe  their 
institution   right,   and    so   indignant   with  denouncing 


1852-1865.]     ANTI-SLAVERY  AND   WAR    TIMES.       293 

Abolitionists.     In    a  letter   written  very  early   in   the 
troublous  times,  he  tells  a  friend :  — 

"I  must  insist  that  genuine,  primitive  colonization,  and 
sound,  thorough  anti-slavery  doctrine,  are  not  incompatible. 
I  hope,  therefore,  to  maintain  both.  But  there  is  one  charac- 
teristic of  the  anti-slavery  movement  which  1  cannot  approve 
or  excuse,  or  for  a  moment  cease  to  deprecate.  I  refer  to  the 
injustice  which  is,  as  it  seems  to  me,  continually  and  system- 
atically heaped  upon  all  those  who  do  not  adopt  the  princi- 
ples or  advocate  measures  of  the  Abolitionists.  There  are 
exceptions,  I  know,  to  the  universal  manifestations  of  such  a 
spirit,  and  I  am  glad  to  say  that  I  have  never  thought  that 
you  betrayed  or  felt  this  spirit.  But  the  general  strain  of 
language  of  Abolitionists  towards,  —  not  only  slaveholders, 
of  whom  I  mean  not  now  to  say  any  thing,  —  but  towards 
Northern  men  who  do  not  agree  with  them,  is,  I  think,  un- 
christian, bitterly  and  fiercely  unchristian.  With  a  party 
which  glories  in  such  a  course,  I  cannot  strike  hands.  I  may 
sympathize  in  their  objects,  while  I  dread  and  abhor  their 
spirit.  Here  is  my  objection,  my  sole  objection  to  the  Anti- 
slavery  movement.  Discuss  the  subject,  the  Abolitionists 
may  and  should;  but  when  they  denounce  other  men, 
who,  believing  such  discussion  pernicious,  would  discourage 
it,  and  hold  them  up  as  confederate  with  the  agents  of 
wickedness ;  when,  for  example,  a  Colonizationist  is  therefore 
set  down  and  set  forth  at  once  as  an  apologist  for  slavery, 
or  when  a  Christian  minister,  because  he  in  his  soul  believes 
that  the  Abolitionists  are  doing  harm  by  the  manner  in  which 
they  conduct  their  discussions,  and  hence  refuses  to  throw 
upon  their  side  whatever  influence  he  may  have,  is  therefore 
publicly  branded  witli  the  seal  of  condemnation,  and  the 
confidence  of  his  fellow  Christians  is  taken  from  him,  —  in- 
justice is  done,  cruelty  is  practised,  and  they  who  are  loudest 
in  their  inculcation  of  brotherly  love  are  its  most  flagrant 
transin-essors.  The  Abolitionists  have  a  ricrht  to  act  on  their 
convictions,  and  to  require  that  they  should  be  respected  for 


294  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.  [1852-1865. 

obeying  their  convictions ;  but  the  same  right  belongs  to 
other  men.  In  principle,  I  am  with  you.  In  spirit,  I  rejoice 
to  believe  that  you  and  I  would  be  one.  But  there  are  those 
with  whom  you  are  connected,  persons  who  seem  to  me  so  to 
distrust  the  goodness  of  all  who  differ  from  thera,  and  to 
look  down  upon  all  such  with  so  great  a  consciousness  of 
moral  superiority,  that  I  feel  myself  when  in  their  presence 
to  be  in  a  situation  not  unlike  that  of  a  criminal  before  his 
accuser  and  judge." 

The  judges  were  not  wont  to  mince  their  Avords  in 
passing  sentence.  Of  course  he  suffered  personally 
much  reproach  from  them.  To  his  regret  the  church- 
committee  at  Federal  Street  refused  to  lend  the  Anti- 
Slavery  Society  their  house,  when  that  Society  wished 
to  pronounce  a  eulogy  on  Dr.  Follen,  the  noble  German, 
lover  of  liberty,  who  perished  on  the  "  Lexington." 
Pastor  as  well  as  people  had  to  bear  the  lash  for  that 
refusal.     To  cite  another  instance  :  — 

April  7,  1840.  "Unexpectedly  met at  Hillard's  office, 

and  had  a  few  minutes'  conversation  with  him,  plain  and 
earnest  but  not  uncourteous  on  either  side,  about  his  speech 
at  Lynn,  in  which  he  said  '  no  words  could  describe  the  base- 
ness and  meanness  of  my  conduct '  in  refusing  to  read  from 
my  pulpit  a  notice  of  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Massachu- 
setts Anti-Slavery  Society." 

Yet  by  some  of  the  strongest  Abolitionists  at  home 
he  was  known  well  enough  to  have  credit  for  principle 
as  sincere  as  their  own.  Not  so  with  English  acquaint- 
ances, Avho  in  their  newspapers  spared  no  rebuke.  One 
friend,  however,  though  not  himself  agreeing  with  Dr. 
Gannett,  took  generous  risk  to  show  that  he  was  mis- 
represented. To  this  friend,  Rev.  Russell  Lant  Car- 
penter, he  writes  at  one  time  and  another  thus :  — 


1852-1865.]    ANTI-SLAVERY  AND    WAR    TIMES.      295 

"Your  letters  on  Slavery  in  the  'Inquirer''  impressed  me 
with  their  evident  candor  of  spirit  and  fairness  of  statement. 
You  can  do  good  in  England  by  representing  the  truth ;  and, 
in  this  age  of  partisanship,  a  man  who  is  bhimed  by  each 
Aving  of  the  social  state  may  congratulate  himself  that  he 
has  reason  to  believe  himself '  about  right.'  It  is  the  vice 
of  philanthropy  in  our  day  that  it  condemns  and  traduces 
every  one  who  will  not  use  its  own  terms  or  adopt  its  most 
extreme  measures.  The  time  must  come  when  reasonable 
men,  at  least,  will  see  that  a  subject  so  encumbered  with 
difficulties  needs  to  be  managed  with  judgment,  and  may  be 
regarded  under  different  lights  by  equally  honest  minds.  .  .  . 
"  The  course  taken  by  some  of  the  English  Unitarian  min- 
isters, I  confess,  gives  me  pain,  because  their  votes  seem  to 
forbid  any  intercourse,  and  exclude  the  continuance  of  sym- 
pathy between  me  and  some  whom  I  have  loved.  ...  I  have 
two  or  three  times  been  moved  by  misrepresentations  con- 
nected with  my  name  in  English  Unitarian  Anti-slavery 
papers,  which  were  sent  me  to  reply  by  a  simple  statement 
of  the  truth;  but  I  have  found  that  they  who  are  so  careless 
in  their  censures  are  generally  slow  in  retraction,  and  I  have 
preferred  silence  to  controversy.  .  .  .  You  may  be  assured  that 

I  entertain  no  other  than  kind  feelings  towards ,  but  I 

wish  you  would  say  to  him,  that,  if  my  conduct  in  regard  to 
other  points  of  duty  had  been  as  well  sustained  by  my  judg- 
ment and  my  conscience  as  my  course  in  regard  to  slavery, 
I  should  feel  little  self-reproach  or  little  anxiety  for  the 
future. 

His  closest  view  of  actual  slavery  was  gained  in  1853, 
when  he  spent  a  week  or  two  in  Charleston  and  Sa- 
vannah. Among  hospitable  friends,  he  saw  it  in  its  very 
best  aspects  of  city  and  plantation  life  ;  saw  kindness 
on  the  part  of  masters,  seeming  affection  and  content 
on  the  part  of  slaves.  But  it  made  his  heart  sick,  —  "the 
fact  of  irresponsible  ownership  of  fellow-men,  as  if  they 


296  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.  [1852-1865. 

were  bctasts  of  burden,  or  part  of  the  household  stuff; " 
and  in  a  sermon  after  Ids  return  he  gave  solemn  testi- 
mony against  it.  Nor  then  for  the  first  or  for  the  last 
time  was  such  testimony  urged  against  — 

"The  grievous  wrong,  utterly  indefensible  and  unjustifi- 
able, to  be  held  in  universal  and  immitigable  condemnation. 
...  It  is  the  attempt  to  degrade  a  human  beinpj  into  somethmg 
less  than  a  man,  —  not  the  confinement,  unjust  as  this  is,  nor 
the  blows,  cruel  as  these  are, — but  the  denial  of  his  equal 
share  in  the  rights,  prerogatives,  and  responsibilities  of  a 
human  being,  which  brands  the  institution  of  slavery  with 
its  ])oculiar  and  ineflfiiceable  odiousness." 

But  with  this  utter  condemnation  of  slavery  he 
joined  that  conscientious  devotion  to  established  Law, 
to  Peace,  to  Union,  which  in  the  issues  of  the  hour 
placed  him  practically  on  the  side  opposed  to  Freedom. 
The  struggle  in  his  mind ;  his  revulsion  from  the  inevi- 
table chish  ;  his  slow  yielding,  only  inch  by  inch ;  the 
looking  to  God  in  perfect  ignorance  what  the  country 
ought  to  do ;  and,  among  other  things,  his  clear  inten- 
tion what  to  do  himself  in  case  a  fugitive  should  ever 
reach  his  door,  —  are  displayed  in  many  a  passage  of  his. 
printed  sermons. 

While  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill  Avas  impending,  Feb- 
ruary, 1850,  he  spoke  thus : — 

"  Freedom,  Peace,  and  Order,  —  these  three  constitute 
the  gift  of  Heaven  to  this  Union;  and  woe  to  him  who 
lightly  puts  either  of  them  in  jeopardy !  .  .  .  These  three,  be 
it  remembered,  belong  together.  Try  not  to  separate  them. 
Concede  something  of  opinion,  something  of  preference,  some- 
thing even  of  your  judgment  of  abstract  right,  for  the  sake 
of  their  conjoint  preservation.  When  you  come  to  deal  with 
actual  relations  and  positive  evils,  consider  how  society  is 
knit  together;  and  bear  it  ever  in  mind  that  patience  and 


1852-1865.]    ANTI-SLAVERY  AND    WAR    TIMES.       297 

hope  are  more  eifectual  means  of  introducing  the  triumph  of 
right  under  a  perfect  constitution  of  society,  far  more  effect- 
ual than  discord  and  violence.  Freedom,  peace,  order !  —  he 
who  sacrifices  one  of  these,  in  his  anxiety  to  secure  the 
largest  measure  of  either  or  both  of  the  other  two,  is  at  best 
a  blind  enthusiast,  if  he  be  not  a  mad  fanatic.  Tliey  must 
stand  together  like  the  States  of  this  Union,  inseparable,  and 
cherished  with  a  common  love  by  every  one  who  cares  for 
the  welfare  of  his  country  or  the  progress  of  mankind." 

November,  1850,  soon  after  the  Bill  had  passed  :  — 

Calamity/  of  Disunion,  —  "I  cannot  contemplate  the 
possible  overthrow  of  the  American  Union  but  as  a  calamity 
too  great  for  the  common  speech  of  men  to  describe.  I 
cling  to  the  Union,  and  pray  that  it  may  be  preserved  from 
dissolution,  because  such  an  event  would  involve  the  dis- 
appointment of  the  dearest  hopes  of  the  philanthropist,  and 
put  back  the  world,  that  now  seems  to  be  coming  to  a  com- 
prehension of  the  blessings  which  the  Creator  intended  it 
should  enjoy,  for  I  know  not  how  many  ages.  I  cannot 
foresee  the  extent  of  evil  that  would  follow  on  the  failure 
of  this  attempt  to  demonstrate  the  worth  and  durability  of 
free  institutions,  —  an  attempt  made  on  the  grandest  scale 
and  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances.  I  can  only 
hear  the  sorrowful  regrets  of  those  whose  hope  would  be  ex- 
tinguished, and  the  exultant  sneer  of  those  who  begrudge 
the  people  every  right  which  they  now  have  the  power  to 
exercise  or  the  courage  to  demand.  Not  freedom  only,  but 
civilization,  would  suffer  incalculable  detriment.  The  prog- 
ress of  opinion  would  be  arrested,  the  sanguine  would  be 
disheartened,  the  energetic  intimidated,  and  another  period 
of  apathetic  gloom — to  last,  no  one  can  tell  for  how  many 
generations  —  might  come  over  the  nations.  If  this  sound 
to  any  one  like  the  language  of  extravagance,  let  him  con- 
sider the  |)osition  which  America  now  holds  in  the  regards 
of  the  civilized  world,  and  he  will  be  slow  to  pronounce  such 
anticipations  visionary. 


298  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.  [1852-1865. 

"But,  whatever  should  be  the  result  abroad,  there  can 
be  no  doubt  respectinpj  the  consequences  which  would  ensue 
here  upon  the  overthrow  of  our  present  government.  I, 
finally,  cleave  to  the  Union,  both  theoretically  and  practically, 
because  these  consequences  are  too  dreadful  to  be  anticipated 
without  the  keenest  sense  of  misfortune.  I  esteem  it  a  lit 
occasion  for  praise  to  the  God  of  our  fathers  that  they  con- 
structed a  Union,  the  preservation  of  which  will  prevent 
such  terrible  disasters.  Should  the  Union  be  dissolved,  it 
would  be  on  sectional  grounds.  .  .  .  Rival  states  would  take  its 
place,  mutually  jealous  and  mutually  hostile,  with  causes  of 
irritation  springing  out  of  their  past  history,  and  occasions  of 
strife  continually  aj-isiug  out  of  the  new  relations  in  which 
they  would  stand  to  one  another;  —  rival  states,  between 
which,  e\'en  if  an  amicable  rupture  of  the  bonds  that  now 
hold  them  together  were  possible,  war  would  be  enkindled 
before  a  year  had  expired,  —  war  that  wouhl  be  marked  by 
the  atrocities  which  hatred,  stimulated  by  opportunity, 
always  begets.  Border  incursions  would  ripen  into  pro- 
longed warfare.  It  has  become  a  proverb  that  they  who 
were  once  nearest,  when  estranged,  make  the  most  bitter 
enemies.  One  cause  of  ill-will,  especially,  would,  gather  force 
with  every  day.  The  institution  which  is  the  principal  mark 
and  ground  of  difference  between  the  North  and  South 
would  breed  perpetual  mischief,  as  those  held  in  bondage  on 
one  side  of  a  national  boundary  would  escape  to  the  other 
side,  and  Avhat  is  now  a  source  of  vexation  would  then  induce 
an  immediate  resort  to  arms.  There  is  no  need  of  calling  in 
an  exuberant  imagination  to  describe  the  horrors  that  must 
flow  from  the  erection  of  two  or  more  independent  govern- 
ments, whatever  internal  form  they  might  take,  out  of  the 
present  United  States.  The  dullest  foresight  may  descry 
evils  of  such  magnitude  that  the  heart  grows  sick  at  their 
contemplation. 

"  And  what  would  be  gained  as  an  equivalent  of  all  that 
would  be  lost?     "Would  the  North  be  freer  or  happier,  more 


1852-1865.]     ANTI-SLAVERY  AND    WAR    TIMES.       299 

prosperous  or  more  religions,  than  she  noAV  is?  Let  the 
history  of  every  period  signalized  by  the  prevalence  of  evil 
passions  and  the  effusion  of  blood  furnish  the  answer. 
Would  the  South  grow  richer,  stronger,  or  more  worthy  of 
respect?  With  every  disadvantage  under  which  it  now 
suffers  aggravated,  and  the  benefits  for  which  it  is  indebted 
to  the  Union  withdrawn,  certainly  not.  "Would  philanthropy 
behold  the  accomplishment  of  its  wishes,  or  oppression  relax 
ics  grasp  on  those  whom  it  dooms  to  perpetual  servitude? 
On  the  contrary,  when  both  the  right  and  the  opportunity  of 
exerting  some  influence  for  the  amelioration  of  the  evils  of 
slavery,  which  the  citizens  of  the  free  States  now  have, 
should  cease,  and  the  colored  race  should  be  left  tq  the  in- 
terests and  habits  of  masters  who  would  then  carefully 
exclude  alike  interference  and  observation,  their  condition 
would  be  more  hopeless  even  than  at  present.  Would 
slavery  become  extinct  through  the  speedy  or  gradual  ruin 
of  the  Southern  country,  which,  deprived  of  the  alliance  that 
now  sends  some  currents  of  life  through  its  languid  veins, 
would  sink  into  poverty  and  imbecility  ?  Even  if  this  should 
be  the  spectacle  which  the  future  would  unroll,  I  do  not 
envy  him  whose  prophetic  eye  can  look  on  such  a  result  with 
satisfaction.  Nothing  would  be  gained  by  dissolving  the 
Union,  —  nothing,  —  nothing.  And  much  would  be  sacri- 
ficed, which,  if  it  were  possible  that  a  time  should  come, 
when  the  members  of  the  republic  thus  rent  in  pieces  would 
wish  to  restore  its  unity,  could  never  be  recovered.  God 
save  us  from  disunion !  I  know  that  slavery  is  a  political 
and  a  moral  evil,  a  sin  and  a  curse;  but  disunion  seems  to 
me  to  be  treason,  not  so  much  against  the  country  as  against 
humanity.  The  curse  would  not  be  removed,  the  evil  would 
not  be  abated,  no  one  would  be  benefited  by  it.  And  only 
the  historian  who  should  record  the  long  series  of  misfortunes 
and  crimes  to  which  it  would  give  rise  could  tell  how  much 
all  would  have  lost. 

"Would  I   then   maintain    the   integrity  of  the  Union 


300  EZI^A    STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-18C5. 

always  and  for  ever?  Are  there  no  possible  circumstances 
that  would  compel  us  to  renounce  our  allegiance  to  the  con- 
stitution under  which  these  states  have  arisen  to  greatness? 
I  do  not  say  this.  Would  I  submit  to  every  law  which 
might  find  a  place  in  the  legislature  of  my  country?  My 
answer  would  be  in  the  negative.  But  there  is  a  wide  differ- 
ence between  refusal  to  comply  with  a  law  which  we  hold  to 
be  immoral,  incurring,  of  course,  the  legal  penalty  of  such 
refusal,  and  an  assault  upon  the  institutions  under  which  un- 
wise legislators  have  had  an  opportunity  of  doing  a  wiong 
thing.  No  one  denies  the  existence  of  a  higher  law  than 
any  which  can  proceed  from  human  legislation.  The  real 
question  at  issue  concerns  the  interpretation  of  that  higher 
law.  Does  it  abrogate  loyalty  to  an  earthly  government, 
or  does  it  add  to  the  sentiment  of  loyalty  the  force  of  relig- 
ious obligation?  This  is  not  a  point  on  which  conscience 
gives  one  decision,  while  worldly  interest  or  personal  coward- 
ice gives  another.  There  is  conscience  on  both  sides.  My 
neighbor's  conscience  and  mine  may  not  pronounce  the  same 
sentence.  Each  of  us  may  act  from  a  sense  of  the  highest 
obligation,  and  yet  we  may  act  very  differently." 

In  June,  1854,  after  the  rendition  of  Mr.  Burns  to 
slavery :  — 

Union  may  cost  too  much,  —  "Until  that  solemn  crisis 
arrives,  which  in  the  providence  of  God  is  the  ultimate  fact 
of  political  history,  when  a  people  are  driven  upon  the  right 
of  revolution,  and  society  returning  to  its  first  principles 
is  dissolved  into  its  original  elements,  —  a  crisis  which  no 
thoughtful  man  will  contemplate  but  with  dismay,  —  we 
must  avoid  all  conflict  with  the  laws  or  the  legal  authorities 
of  the  land.  We  may  present  a  passive  resistance  to  an  en- 
actment or  a  mandate  which  it  would  violate  our  consciences 
to  obey.  Else  our  obedience  to  human  law  may  supplant 
our  respect  for  what  we  believe  to  be  the  requisition  of  God, 
which  would  be  fatal  to  integrity  and  purity  of  character. 


1852-1865.]      ANTI-SLAVERY  AND    WAR   TIMES.      301 

But  in  this  collision  between  the  claims  of  an  earthly  and  a 
divine  government,  each  of  which  we  recognize  as  legitimate, 
we  must  accept  the  penalty  of  disobedience  to  the  former,  — 
suffering,  not  fighting,  for  conscience'  sake.  .  .  . 

"  I  repeat  that,  while  a  law  stands  in  force  we  must  either 
consent  to  its  execution  or  bear  the  penalty  of  disobedience. 
But  when  the  execution  of  that  law  not  only  inflicts  a  pang  on 
our  moral  nature,  but  is  made  doubly  painful  by  the  frequency 
and  zeal  with  which  it  is  carried  into  effect,  we  cannot,  or,  if 
we  can,  we  ought  not  to  fold  our  arms  and  close  our  lips  in 
patient  acquiescence.  The  principle  of  the  present  Fugitive 
Slave  Law  was  embodied  in  the  similar  act  of  Congress 
13assed  more  than  half  a  century  ago,  but  for  more  than  fifty 
years  the  South  was  content  that  the  act  should  remain  com- 
paratively inoperative :  let  it  take  the  same  course  now,  and 
the  North  would  acquiesce  in  the  legal  validity  of  a  claim 
seldom  enforced.  But  if  the  South  evince  a  determination 
to  put  Northern  feeling  to  a  trial  on  this  question  whenever 
it  shall  have  an  opportunity,  Northern  men  will  not  consent 
to  witness  often  such  scenes  as  we  were  made  to  endure  a 
few  days  since.  The  question  will  not  be  simply  whether  a 
law  shall  be  executed  or  be  resisted :  a  deeper  question  will 
arise,  when  the  Southern  master  shall  use  the  free  States  as 
the  ground  on  which  to  assert  the  immaculate  character  of 
slavery.  The  alternative  will  then  present  itself,  whether 
we  will  become  ready  participants  in  upholding  a  system 
which  we  abhor,  or  will  seek  a  dissolution  of  the  bond  which 
holds  us  and  the  South  together. 

"  This  is  sad  languag^e  and  fearful.  I  have  loved  the  Union 
as  dearly  perhaps  as  any  one.  I  have  clung  to  it  as  the  guide 
and  hope  of  the  oppressed  nations  of  the  m- odd.  I  have  lost 
friends  and  been  traduced,  —  that  is  no  matter,  save  as  it  shows 
how  I  have  spoken,  —  because  I  maintained  that  the  Union 
must  be  preserved  at  almost  any  cost.  I  say  so  now.  But 
it  may  cost  us  too  much.  If  every  manly  and  honest  Chris- 
tian sentiment  must  be  subjected  to  continual  indignity,  then 


302  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-1865. 

will  sober  men,  who  have  loved  the  Union  and  clung  to  it, 
ask  whether  a  peaceable  separation,  with  all  its  prospective 
issues,  would  not  be  preferable.  .  .  .  Our  national  adminis- 
tration and  our  free  soil  must  not  be  used  to  promote  the 
interests  of  slavery;  and  if,  in  maintaining  this  position,  a 
result  which  five  years  ago,  or  a  year  ago,  we  should  have 
regarded  as  among  the  most  extravagant  suggestions  of  a 
gloomy  foresight,  should  become  inevitable,  and  even  be  fol- 
lowed by  disasters,  at  the  thought  of  whose  possibility  we 
tremble,  we  may  deplore  the  situation  into  which  we  shall 
be  brought;  but  how  can  we,  with  self-respect  or  in  con- 
sistency with  our  holiest  persuasions,  avoid  it?  We  must 
do  our  duty,  and  leave  the  issue  with  Him  who  ruleth  over 
the  affairs  of  men.  Precious  as  our  national  history  and 
national  hoj^e  are,  righteousness  and  liberty  are  still  dearer 
possessions. 

Then  came  the  day,  in  June  of  1856,  when  Brooks  of 
South  Carolina  assaulted  Charles  Sumner  in  the  Senate 
Chamber.  Massachusetts  shook  as  if  the  blows  fell 
on  each  head  in  the  State  !  "  War  ?  "  Not  yet,  is  his 
word :  be  earnestly,  religiously  calm  before  we  act ! 

"  I  read  with  sadness  the  language  of  Christian  men  and 
Christian  ministers,  whose  brave  words,  if  they  be  well  con- 
sidered, are  bloody  words.  To  me  the  musket  and  the  Bible 
do  not  seem  twin  implements  of  civilization.  .  „  .  Let  the 
alternative  involved  in  the  relation  of  slavery  to  the  Union 
be  brought  before  me  under  circumstances  which  compel  me, 
if  I  cling  to  the  one,  to  encourage  the  other,  and  I  shall 
know  that  God  has  called  me  to  the  sad  duty  of  helping  to 
destroy  the  citadel  of  the  world's  hope.  But,  till  I  see  that 
duty  too  plain  to  be  mistaken,  I  will  j^ray  that  it  may  not  be 
made  the  test  of  my  submission  to  a  solemn  and  dark  provi- 
dence. I  think  that,  if  the  hour  of  final  decision  had  come, 
we  should  see  it  more  clearly  than  we  now  do.  This  is 
the  time  for  lowly  and   importunate  prayer.      There   need 


1852-1865.]    ANTI-SLAVERY  AND   WAR    TIMES.       303 

not  be  less  of  bravery  because  there  is  more  of  piety,  less  of 
righteous  indignation  because  there  is  more  of  humble  con- 
fession, nor  less  love  of  freedom  because  there  is  more 
reliance  on  God.  Be  watchful  to  detect  the  first  sign  of 
duty,  and  ready  to  obey  the  first  call  to  action  that  shall 
corie  from  a  higher  wisdom  than  that  of  man.  Be  patient 
till  the  hour  comes  ;  be  prompt  when  it  comes  ;  be  firm  while 
it  lasts.  God  give  us  all  the  discernment  and  the  determi- 
nation which  the  exigency  demands ! " 

And  then  John  Brown's  attempt :  — 

"  This  sad  afiair  at  Harper's  Ferry  I  cannot  write  about, 
the  maddest  attempt  ever  made  by  one  of  the  noblest  of 
men." 

To  the  very  last  he  recoiled.  On  that  Thanksgiving 
Day  of  1860,  when  the  whole  country  was  rocking  with 
excitement,  he  still  could  say  :  — 

"Truth  and  right  constitute  the  tribunal  of  final  appeal 
to  whose  decision  the  soul  and  the  community  and  the  land 
should  bow.  Never  will  a  fiiithfiil  interpreter  of  the  Gospel 
of  Christ  say  that  the  Union  may  be  preserved  at  any  cost, 
however  great.  But  truth  and  right  have  not  yet  decreed 
that  these  United  States  must  cease  to  be  one  people.  .  .  . 
The  hour  does  not  plead  with  us  in  behalf  of  concession, 
but  of  sobriety  ami  candor.  Delay  in  action  is  often  as 
clear  a  duty  as  sincerity  of  purpose." 

The  war  began.  Among  the  Abolitionists  Avere  some 
whose  conscientious  attack  on  slavery  had  hastened  the 
crisis,  and  whose  conscience,  when  the  crisis  came,  bade 
them,  as  followers  of  peace,  stand  quiet  and  wait  to  see 
the  glory  of  the  Lord.  What  could  this  man  do  who 
had  been  too  consistent  a  lover  of  peace  ever  to  join 
the  Abolitionists,  and  believed  that  they  were  in  part 
responsil)le  for  the  war  ?  He  could  simply  stand  and 
•^  -ait  with  them. 


304  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-1865. 

"  To  me  war,  if  inevitable,  is  an  evil,  and  hence  arises  be- 
fore my  mind  a  conflict  like  that  of  which  you  speak  between 
*  right  and  apparent  necessity  ; '  for  no  evil  can,  under  God's 
government,  be  unavoidable.  We,  poor  mortals,  —  for  I  do 
not  think  as  highly  of  human  nature  as  you  do,  or  as  I  once 
did,  —  cannot  reconcile  these  elements  of  contradiction ;  and 
therefore  must  either  adopt  that  part  of  the  alternative 
which  seems  to  us  preferable,  or  remain  perplexed  and  dis- 
tret5sed." 

He  could  do  nothing  for  the  war.  After  it  was  over, 
regret  came  that  his  cherished  peace-principle  had 
yielded  to  the  very  slight  extent  to  which  it  did  yield 
by  acquiescence.  Such  men  as  he  are  sorely  racked 
at  such  a  time.  Even  when  age  or  circumstance  saves 
them  from  suffering  publicly,  they  are  among  the  real 
sufferers,  —  "  martyrs  of  moderation,"  earnest  men  bound 
by  sense  of  duty  to  keep  still  while  all  around  them  are 
uprising  in  enthusiasm.  No  "  war-sermons  "  rang  from 
his  pulpit,  no  young  men  of  the  parish  were  urged  to 
enlist.  —  "  May,  1861.  Declined  to  subscribe  to  the 
Massachusetts  Volunteers'  Fund  this  evening."  Only 
in  the  Freedmen's  Aid  Society,  "the  great  charity  of 
the  age,"  as  he  called  it,  did  he  actively  engage.  It 
seemed  a  delight  to  find  one  work  of  the  time  in  which 
he  could  heartily  incite  the  parish  to  co-operate. 

But,  after  the  war  was  a  settled  fact,  neither  could  he 
preach  against  it ;  believing  that  on  the  victory  of  the 
North  depended  then  the  very  things  in  whose  behalf 
he  had  so  earnestly  deprecated  war  before,  — the  national 
existence,  the  success  of  republican  institutions,  the 
suppression  of  slavery.  Now  and  then,  as  the  sad  four 
years  wore  by,  he  even  spoke  of  their  terrible  neces- 
sity, and  took  much  pains  to  make  English  friends 
better  understand  the  issues  that  Avere  involved.    Once, 


1852-1865.]     ANTI-SLAVERY  AND   WAR    TIMES.       305 

v/Iien  the  mob-spirit  broke  loose  in  New  York,  came  a 
preached  Amen  to  the  use  of  force,  and  then  he  spoke 
from  that  same  reverence  for  government  as  "  organized 
society,"  which  underlay  his  whole  course  in  regard  to 
anti-slavery.  "  A  mob's  single  purpose  in  the  beginning 
is  resistance,  its  final  work  destruction.  Tampering 
with  it  is  like  giving  a  wild  beast  food  enough  to  whet 
its  appetite  ;  retreating  before  it  is  like  inviting  a  pack  of 
wolves  to  follow  you  to  your  home." 

But  this  was  a  unique  exception.  In  general,  he  could 
only  watch  with  intense  interest  the  influence  of  the  war 
on  personal  and  national  character,  and  lift  up  his  voice 
from  time  to  time  amid  the  excitement  to  recall  his 
people's  minds  to  the  thought  of  God.  This,  to  him, 
was  the  minister's  sphere  ;  here  lay  his  duty  of  speech. 
Faithful  and  frequent  was  his  warning  against  the  faults 
engendered  by  our  prosperity,  —  the  worldliness,  the  ex- 
travagance, the  dishonesty,  the  arrogance,  the  reckless- 
ness of  human  life,  the  wish  for  future  vengeance  on  the 
Southern  white,  the  impatience  with  the  black.  Remem- 
ber God !  remember  God  I  was  his  one  great  thought, 
his  constant  message,  through  the  dark  hours  and  the 
bright.  God's  purpose,  he  felt,  was  in  some  strange 
way  carried  out  by  all  the  bloodshed  and  the  evil :  in 
His  providence,  it  was  sure  to  turn  to  final  good,  even 
if  disaster  should  first  overwhelm  the  country.  And, 
when  at  last  the  blessed  peace  came,  it  was  not  the  gen- 
erals and  armies,  but  He  wliose  instruments  they  were, 
that  had  given  us  the  victory.  "  God's  Overruling 
Care  of  War;"  "Repentance  amidst  Deliverance;" 
"  In  Time  of  AVar  prepare  for  Peace  ; "  "  Our  Coming 
Work  and  Duties,"  —  the  sermon-titles  suggest  what 
his  people  listened  to  when  he  spoke  of  the  nation  in 

its  trial. 

20 


306  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.  [1852-1865. 

July,  1863,  after  the  battle  of  Gettysburg. —  "  On  the 
recent  anniversary,  which  seemed  to  be  doubly  consecrated 
by  the  recollections  of  the  past  and  by  the  congratulations 
we  were  exchanging  over  the  intelligence  just  received,  my 
strongest  feeling,  after  the  long  breath  of  relief  had  been 
drawn,  was  the  desire  that  some  one  could  lift  up  his  voice 
at  the  corners  of  tlie  streets,  amidst  the  congregated  crowds 
of  the  city,  and  through  the  dwellings  of  the  land,  crying, 
*  To  your  altars  and  your  closets,  ye  American  people !  There 
fall  on  your  knees  before  Almighty  God;  and,  while  you 
bless  Him  for  the  deliverance  He  has  granted,  confess  your 
sins  before  Him,  and  with  penitent  hearts  resolve  on  better 
lives.  To  prayer,  to  humiliation,  ye  people  whom  the  Lord 
has  blessed,  and  let  praise  be  the  vestibule  of  repentance ! ' " 

To  a  friend,  in  1863  :  — 

"My  faith  in  a  Divine  Providence  overruling  the  move- 
ments of  this  civil  strife  has  grown  much  within  the  last  six 
months.  If  the  North  Avill  only  be  true  to  freedom  and 
order,  the  result  is  sure  and  near.  The  war  will  not  last 
a  year  longer.  The  Federal  forces  may  suffer  defeat  once 
and  again ;  but,  unless  we  are  disloyal  to  our  own  oppor- 
tunities and  duties,  we,  i.e.  the  Government  and  the  free 
States,  must  succeed.  I  am  not  reconciled  to  war  as  a 
means  which  man  should  choose  for  the  vindication  of  the 
Right ;  but  during  this  war  we  have  been  led  as  by  a  visible 
hand  of  Divine  Power,  from  one  conclusion  to  another,  till 
we  almost  seem  to  be  the  blind  instruments  of  the  Eternal 
Purpose  by  which  we  are  controlled.  A  shorter  war  would 
not  have  left  the  interests  of  the  country  in  as  safe  a  position 
as  they  would  hold,  were  a  peace  concluded  to-morrow^ ;  and 
probably  a  struggle  of  six  months  more  will  place  them  in 
a  still  safer  position. 

"  On  the  wiiole,  we  are  wiser,  stronger,  better,  than  we 
were  two  years  ago.  Our  virtues  have  grown  rather  than 
our  vices.     Sympathy,   self-forgetfulness,  practical  bencvo- 


1852-1865.]     ANTI-SLAVERY  AND    WAR    TIMES.       307 

lence,  force  of  character,  patient  submission  to  suffering,  in- 
telligent loyalty,  are  oftener  seen  than  formerly,  and  the 
rights  of  our  fellow-beings  are  more  justly  and  more  gener- 
ally apprehended." 

To  an  English  friend,  in  March,  1864  :  — 

"  I  have  thought  once  and  again  that  I  would  write,  but 
the  one  subject  which  seems  now  to  stand  between  England 
and  America,  dividing  instead  of  uniting  us,  —  the  w^ar,  — 
has  kept  my  hand  still.  Why  write  only  to  complain  or  to 
recriminate  ?  I  have  said.  He  and  I  cannot  take  the  same 
view,  and  our  difference  is  but  made  more  plain  by  an  attempt 
to  reconcile  opposite  opinions;  yet  I  am  not  willing  that 
our  friendship  should  be  buried  in  silence,  and  at  least  I  may 
thank  you  for  sending  me  the  articles  which  you  have  inserted 
in  the  *  Inquirer.'  The  one  error  which  marks  them  all  — 
pardon  me  for  saying  it  —  is  insensibility  to  the  vital  ques- 
tion which  the  war  presents.  Deeper  even  than  slavery  lies 
the  national  life.  Ours  is  a  struggle  for  existence.  The 
principle  on  which  the  assumed  right  of  secession  rests  is 
fatal  to  any  nationality.  The  success  of  an  experiment  in 
which  all  lovers  of  popular  freedom  should  be  interested 
is  brought  into  question.  I  cannot  understand,  without 
imi3uting  to  England  most  unworthy  feelings  towards  the 
United  States,  how  she  who  holds  her  own  national  life 
with  such  a  conscious  pride  can  treat  with  cold  contempt 
our  desire  to  preserve  the  Republic  from  dissolution.  I 
am  a  peace-man;  as  truly,  I  think,  as  you.  It  was,  long 
before  I  could  be  in  any  degree  reconciled  to  the  course 
which  the  Government  was  forced  to  take ;  but  as  I  came 
to  see  more  distinctly  that  the  alternative  was  resistance 
or  death,  a  defeat  of  the  Southern  enterprise  or  a  disinte- 
gration of  the  Union  into  independent  and  mutually  hos- 
tile States,  I  submitted  to  the  dreadful  necessity,  and, 
though  I  have  not  given  a  dollar  to  support  the  war,  I 
have   looked  on   with   the   most  intense  interest.      In   the 


308  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-1865. 

Divine  Providence,  a  result  is  close  at  hand,  which  few 
could  foresee  even  in  the  remote  distance.  Slavery  is  perish- 
ing, the  death-blow  given  by  its  own  hand.  The  problem 
which  neither  politician  nor  philanthropist  could  solve  is 
disappearing  from  the  anxious  inquiry  of  both.  With  the 
triumph  of  the  Federal  arms,  not  only  will  slavery  cease,  but 
the  negro  will  have  vindicated  his  right  to  stand  side  by  side 
with  the  white  man  in  upholding  the  social  interests  of  the 
land.  The  war  has  been  prolonged  as  if,  without  our  know- 
ing it,  for  this  end.  Grievous  mistakes  have  been  made,  enor- 
mous expenses  have  been  created,  a  terrible  loss  of  life  has 
been  demanded,  flagrant  crimes  have  been  perpetrated,  and 
whether  the  moral  tone  of  the  country  has  been  raised  or 
lowered  is  doubtful;  but  we  confidently  believe  that  in  a 
year's  time  we  shall  be  able  to  say  that  free  institutions  have 
been  saved  from  overthrow  and  their  blessings  been  extended 
to  every  man  through  the  broad  extent  of  the  Union.  .  .  . 

"  You  may  be  assured  that  this  conviction  of  the  impossi- 
bility of  yielding  to  the  Rebellion  without  the  utter  loss  of 
national  life,  and  not  a  love  of  war  nor  hatred  of  the  South, 
has  reconciled  a  large  number  of  our  people  to  the  prose- 
cution of  this  bloody  strife.  Conservative  men  unite  with 
radical  Republicans  on  this  ground.  All  feel  tliat  the  govern- 
ment must  be  sustained,  and  the  war  be  brought  to  an  end 
by  a  practical  refutation  of  the  Secession  doctrine.  Till  this 
is  accomplished,  we  shall  not  only  have  no  peace  in  the  coun- 
try ;  without  this,  we  shall  have  no  country." 

Fast  Day  Sermon,  April,  1865.-—"  What  is  the  result^ 
These  free  democratic  institutions  of  ours  have  in  the  last 
four  years  been  put  upon  such  a  trial,  been  cast  into  such 
peril,  been  so  searched  by  events  and  so  exposed  at  every 
weak  poiilt,  as  they  never  had  been  before,  as  they  never  can 
be  again.  No  possibilities  of  political  history  could  have 
made  the  trial  more  terrific  or  more  conclusive.  And  they 
have  come  out  of  it  unscathed;  bearing,  perhaps,  some 
marks  of  the  ordeal  through  which  they  have  passed,  but 


1852-1865.]    ANTI-SLAVERY  AND   WAR    TIMES.       309 

firmer,  more  trustworthy,  more  admirable  than  ever,  entitled 
to  our  fondest  reliance,  and  sure  to  extort  from  the  eastern 
hemisphere  an  acknowledgment  of  their  integrity." 

"  This  I  account  the  great  result  of  the  war.  In  so  regard- 
ing it,  I  do  not  overlook  the  importance  of  that  other  effect, 
which  has  necessarily  occupied  a  larger  place  in  our  field  of 
vision,  —  the  overthrow,  the  total  and  permanent  overthrow, 
of  slavery.  Rejoicing  in  this  effect  as  heartily  as  any  one,  I 
still  must  ascribe  greater  importance  to  the  vindication  of 
a  popular  system  of  government  from  the  suspicions  which 
had  been  cast  upon  it,  and  the  anxieties  which  even  its 
friends  entertained.  For  if  this  system  had  been  found 
unequal  to  the  exigency,  if  the  country  had  failed  in  main- 
taining itself  against  intestine  discord  and  foreign  envy, 
what  would  have  been  the  consequence  ?  Not  only  would 
slavery  have  perpetuated  its  dire  injustice,  but  civil  freedom 
as  the  hope  of  man  in  every  land,  would  have  received  a 
wound  that  might  not  be  healed  in  many  generations ;  the 
.flag,  of  which  our  Governor  speaks  in  the  Proclamation 
under  which  we  are  met,  as  '  the  symbol  of  equal  rights  to 
all  men  under  its  folds,'  —  and  to  all  men  everywhere,  let  us 
add,  the  symbol  of  what  they  may  claim,  and  must  at  some 
time  realize,  —  would  have  been  in  their  eyes  a  badge  of  dis- 
aster and  token  of  discouragement ;  the  progress  of  civili- 
zation would  have  been  arrested,  and  the  name  even  of 
"Washington  have  shone  less  resplendent  in  the  firmament  of 
political  history.  Thank  God !  this  has  not  been  the  result. 
Our  institutions  have  not  been  prostrated  by  the  hand  of 
violence,  nor  have  they  fiiUen  through  their  own  inherent 
weakness.  The  Union  is  saved,  and  the  Republic  is  safe. 
Popular  government  has  shown  itself  to  be  as  strong  as  re- 
gal government.  The  people  are  as  capable  of  guarding  the 
functions  of  sovereignty  as  the  most  despotic  monarch  on 
earth." 

July,  1865.  Thanksgiving  for  Peace.  —  "  I  am  prepared 
for  the  contempt  with  which  an  enthusiastic  love  of  peace 


310  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1852-1865. 

will  be  met,  and  for  the  sarcastic  inquiry  about  Peace  Soci- 
eties and  their  idle  hopes,  'Where  are  they  now?'  Just 
where  they  were  five  years  ago,  —  in  the  hearts  of  those  Avho 
believe  in  the  religion  of  Christ  as  a  religion  of  love,  and  in 
the  sure  promise  of  our  faith  that  the  love  of  the  right  shall 
prevail,  not  by  means  antagonistic  to  that  which  is  true  and 
good,  but  by  the  diffusion  of  Christian  influence  over  the 
land  and  over  the  world. 

"  Shall  we  be  less  confident  in  our  interpretation  of  the 
mind  of  Christ  and  the  will  of  God,  because  disappointment 
has  again  fallen  upon  our  too  sanguine  expectations  ?  Why, 
delay  is  the  invigoration,  as  well  as  the  test,  of  foith.  Ashamed 
of  peace  principles  !  No.  Never  was  there  more  reason  for 
trusting  in  them,  and  never  a  more  proper  time  for  insisting 
on  them.  Let  the  soldier  call  us  fanatics,  and  the  politician 
deride  us  as  fools.  The  foolishness  of  God  is  wiser  than 
men,  and  the  weakness  of  God  is  stronger  than  men,  and 
that  is  Divine  wisdom  and  strength  which  we  draw  from  the 
New  Testament.  Tell  us  not  to  wait  till  the  world  is  better 
before  we  talk  about  an  end  to  wars.  Let  us  make  the  world 
better  by  preventing  war.  Let  us  make  it  so  good  that  it 
will  not  think  war  is  inevitable.  Instruct  men  in  the  prin- 
ciples as  well  as  in  the  arts  of  peace,  and  they  will  find  some 
other  way  for  maintaining  their  rights.  Only  when  the  gospel 
of  the  beatitudes  shall  be  taken  as  the  law  of  every  life  and 
the  inspiration  of  every  purpose,  will  the  interests  of  human- 
ity be  safe  from  the  assault  of  violence  ?  What  an  absurdity 
—  is  it  not,  clear-headed  reasoner?  —  to  pronounce  suflTering 
and  destruction  the  necessary  —  I  do  not  deny  that  they  may 
be  the  indirect,  but  not  a  necessary  —  means  of  advancing 
civilization !  What  a  contradiction,  thou  warm-hearted  dis- 
ciple of  the  Lord  Jesus,  to  believe  that  he  came  to  make  men 
brethren,  and  in  the  same  breath  to  hold  that  they  must  be 
brought  to  that  moral  elevation  at  which  they  can  compre- 
hend this  truth  by  forming  them  into  hostile  armies,  whose 
business  shall  be  mutual  injury!" 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  811 


Meantime,  through  the  four  anxious  years  the  various 
parish-work  went  on  more  vigorously  than  ever.  The 
society  grew  larger,  freed  itself  from  every  debt  for  the 
church,  and  gladly  used  the  opportunities  of  the  new 
location  for  more  active  helpfulness.  A  permanent 
missionary  was  employed  to  visit  in  the  by-streets  of 
the  district  and  gather  the  poorer  children  into  sew- 
ing-school and  Sunday  school.  The  ladies  formed  a 
"  Union"  which  offered  occupation  and  cheap  clothing 
to  needy  mothers.  A  branch  of  the  Freedmen's  Aid 
Society  furnished  support  and  supplies  for  two  or  three 
teachers  at  the  South.  Subscriptions  for  one  purpose 
and  another  followed  each  other  closely  through  the 
busier  months,  and  often  the  week-days  held  three 
parish  gatherings  in  Bible  class  or  vestry-meeting  or 
in  a  "•  Channing  Circle." 

The  beautiful  church  was  the  pastor's  pride  and 
delight.  IMany  were  the  hours  he  spent  in  adding 
privately  to  its  beauty  and  convenience.  For  one  thing 
his  money  could  be  spent  without  counting,  and  his 
time  without  regret.  No  corner  from  cellar  to  loft 
escaped  his  watchful  reverence.     For  instance  :  — 

"  In  belfry  of  the  church  from  10  to  4.30  with  Messrs. 
Munroe,  putting  in  the  tongues  of  the  bells  which  had  been 
annealed ;  then  with  Patrick,  cleaning  the  clock-tower,  bell- 
deck,  and  Jewell's  room. 

"Bought  for  $125  the  portrait  of  Dr.  Channing  for  our 
vestry,  where  it  hangs  under  the  clock.     Friends  gave  me  $90. 

"At  vestry,  hanging  portrait  of  Dr.  Belknap  and  changing 
other  portraits.  Have  now  done  all  I  wish  to  do  for  the 
vestry." 

For  a  year  or  two,  under  the  first  excitement  of  the 
change,  his  spirits  had  brightened ;  but,  as  the  church 


312  EZRA    STTLES   GANNETT.         [1852-1865. 

approached  completion,  he  questioned  himself  more  and 
more  severely  whether  he  ought  not  to  withdraw  betimes 
in  favor  of  some  younger  man.  He  was  not  conscious 
of  the  failing  strength,  he  said,  but  knew  that  age  was 
creeping  on  him.  A  place  upon  the  school-committee 
of  six  schools  proved  no  sinecure.  In  the  Ministers' 
Association,  the  brethren  refused  to  let  him  leave  the 
Moderator's  chair,  for  which  he  felt  himself  continually 
unworthy.  He  was  the  remembrancer  among  them, 
having  already  been  called  on  for  that  memorial  of 
the  Fathers  of  the  denomination  that  was  quoted  in  an 
early  chapter.  And  tributes  to  the  old  ministers,  as 
they  disappeared,  came  naturally  from  his  lips  at  the 
yearly  ''  Alumni  Meetings,"  or  in  the  commemorative 
discourse  for  which  some  sorrowing  parish  asked  him. 
He  was  in  request  at  ordinations,  especially  for  the 
ordaining  prayer :  "  No  one  else  so  filled  up  our  idea  of 
the  reverend  father  in  God."  The  sister  died  :  he  was 
the  patriarch  in  the  family  circle.  His  daughter  mar- 
ried ;  but  he  gladly  felt  that  the  marriage  only  wound 
more  love  and  shelter  round  him.  All  three,  father, 
daughter,  and  the  new  son,  dwelt  together ;  and  the 
other  son  came  back  from  time  to  time.  The  old  anni- 
versary still  kept  its  spell :  — 

Dec.  25,  1863.  —  "I  have  spent  the  greater  part  of  to-day, 
as  I  would  always  spend  this  anniversary,  at  home  and  alone. 
I  seem  to  gain  strength  by  quiet,  and  the  remembrance  of 
the  past  throws  a  serious  and  subduing  influence  over  the 
present.  If  I  could  only  be  taught  a  filial  piety  by  God's 
goodness  to  me,  and  could  acquire  simplicity  of  character,  I 
should  need  no  change  of  outward  circumstances  to  give  me 
peace.  I  do  not  wish  for  happiness,  but  for  a  wise  and  calm 
thoughtfulness." 

The  summer  of  1864  finished  forty  years  of  service 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  313 

with  the  single  congregation.  Older  men  stood  in 
certain  pulpits,  but  not  one  had  been  so  long  in  charge 
of  any  other  parish  in  the  city.  The  anniversary 
sermon  was  painfully  grateful  and  humble.  He  had 
lately  expressed  by  letter  his  readiness  to  go,  and  now 
again  entreated  his  people  to  be  frank.  "-  Frankness  is 
kindness,  silence  may  be  cruelty.  .  .  .  Even  if  I  remain 
with  you,  my  stay  cannot  be  long." 

"I  have  acted  on  the  belief  that  both  preacher  and  people 
may  derive  from  the  cordiality  of  personal  relations  a  com- 
pensation for  the  poverty  of  his  discourses.  This  truth  alone 
could  have  saved  me  from  despair  in  the  earlier  years  of  my 
connection  with  the  Federal  Street  Society ;  and,  when  the 
duties  of  the  pulpit  fell  almost  wholly  into  my  hands,  my 
hope  of  usefulness  rested  on  the  associations  which  my  hearers 
might  have  with  me  as  with  one  who  had  shared  their  sor- 
rows or  gained  their  confidence.  ...  It  has  been  to  me  a 
constant  source  of  embarrassment  and  regret  that  I  could  not 
attract  the  young ;  nor  can  I  hope  that  that  which  was  diffi- 
cult when  I  was  myself  a  young  man  will  be  found  easy  or 
practicable  at  this  later  period  of  my  life." 

Looking  back  over  the  years,  he  recognized  four  lines 
of  thought  with  which  he  had  tried  to  make  himself 
and  them  familiar:  self-consecration,  as  the  basis  of  a 
religious  character ;  faith,  a  positive  definite  belief  re- 
specting God,  Christ,  a  miraculous  revelation  and  its 
authentic  record ;  righteousness,  as  essential  to  an  ex- 
perience or  a  hope  of  the  life  eternal ;  and,  "  grandest, 
holiest,  dearest  theme  of  all,"  the  possibility  and  joy  of 
close  communion  between  the  human  soul  and  God :  — 

"Rising  from  the  base  of  consecration,  and  converging, 
faith  becomes  more  demonstrative  and  righteousness  more 
internal,  till  the  two  meet  hi  that  point  from  which  the  soul 
ascends  to  a  still  more  intimate  acquaintance  with  Ilim  who 


814  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.  [1852-1805. 

is  boundless  Truth  and  everlasting  Rest.  Under  such  a 
definition  of  the  religious  life,  death  has  appeared  but  as  a 
change  of  circumstances,  and  immortality  as  an  unlimited 
expansion  of  being." 

He  spoke  of  the  change  in  Unitarianism  since  he 
entered  on  his  ministry :  — 

"  Then  Ave  who  rejoiced  in  giving  the  name  of  *  Unitarian ' 
to  our  form  of  the  Christian  faith  foretold  its  rapid  diffusion 
over  the  land :  now  we  are  glad  if  we  may  believe  it  holds 
the  influence  which  it  had  at  that  time  acquired.  Then  the 
great  theological  controversies  hinged  on  the  proper  inter- 
pretation of  the  Bible:  now  they  involve  the  authority  of 
the  Bible,  and  the  value  of  a  supernatural  revelation.  ...  By 
some  persons  it  would  be  thought  doubtful  commendation, 
to  speak  of  but  little  change  in  the  convictions  by  which  an 
honest  mind  had  been  governed  through  a  period  of  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century.  They  who  regard  progress  as 
not  only  a  beneficent  requisition,  but  the  supreme  law  of 
human  life,  cannot  feel  sympathy  with  one  who  holds  nearly 
the  same  views  of  truth,  both  practical  and  speculative, 
which  he  embraced  forty  years  ago,  .  .  .  with  which  he  was 
familiar  when  he  sat  in  youthful  reverence  at  the  feet  of 
such  teachers  as  Ware,  Norton,  Channing,  —  teachers,  now 
as  then,  with  whom  I  am  willing  to  lag  behind  the  age."  .  .  . 

"  In  regard  to  two  articles  of  faith,  my  preaching  may 
have  indicated  a  slight  divergence  of  opinion  from  state- 
ments I  once  accepted  and  repeated.  My  study  of  the  New 
Testament,  together  with  the  pain  I  have  felt  in  reading 
books  and  papers  of  comparatively  recent  publication,  has 
led  me  to  a  more  reverential  appreciation  of  the  offices  by 
which  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  continues  to  fulfil  the  work 
which  the  Father  gave  him  to  do  on  earth,  and  to  a  less 
peremptory  statement  of  his  relations  to  God.  Those  rela- 
tions transcend  human  ability  to  define.  While  my  faith  in 
the  supreme  and  sole  deity  of  the  Father  has  grown  stronger 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  315 

rather  than  weaker,  the  place  which  Christ  holds  in  the 
scale  of  being  is  a  subject  on  which  I  wonder  that  others 
sj3eak  with  so  little  hesitation.  I  leave  it  among  the  things 
which  are  hidden  beyond  our  sight. 

"My  views  of  human  nature  have  also  undergone  some 
change.  I  cannot  use  the  language  of  which  I  once  was 
fond  ;  still  less,  the  language  which  marks  a  school  of  thought 
in  which  I  have  never  been  able  to  take  the  first  lesson. 
Neither  consciousness  nor  observation  permits  me  to  inter- 
I^rct  man  as  the  philosophy  of  intuitions  reads  the  consti- 
tution of  the  human  being.  The  erroneous  views  of  Christ 
and  the  Bible  which  prevail  so  widely,  if  they  have  not 
their  origin,  find  their  support,  in  this  philosophy.  I  rely 
on  an  authority  external  to  myself:  for  in  man  I  see  capacity 
indeed,  but  present  weakness  rather  than  strength;  crude 
judgment,  want,  sin.  Human  nature  needs  to  be  guided, 
upheld,  and  protected.  The  radical  error  of  our  times,  I 
soberly  believe,  is  a  false  estimate  of  the  powers  and  pre- 
rogatives of  human  nature.  .  .  . 

"  Of  late,  perhaps  more  than  in  earlier  years,  I  have  laid 
stress  on  the  word  '  trust,'  and  on  its  vast  and  gracious  con- 
tents. As  experience  has  disclosed  to  me  more  of  the  in- 
firmities and  wants  of  which  time  makes  us  all  conscious,  I 
have  repeated  that  word  with  more  emphasis;  and,  if  I  have 
been  thought  to  say  that,  in  its  last  analysis,  religion  is  but 
the  exercise  and  expression  of  trust  in  God,  I  have  not  been 
greatly  misunderstood.  .  .  . 

"In  a  word,  I  have  learned  more  of  my  own  ignorance 
than  of  any  thing  else.  I  am  more  ready  to  allow  mystery 
as  a  vast  region  which  neither  knowledge  nor  faith  can 
penetrate;  and  more  ready  to  walk  by  faith  as  a  liglit  which 
shines  on  passages  redeemed  from  mystery,  but  not  open  to 
knowledge.  Once  I  attempted  to  explain  that  which  I  now 
resolve  into  the  wisdom  of  a  perfect  and  eternal  Will.  As  I 
stand  at  this  moment  of  time,  and  look  back  upon  tlie  past; 
as  I  stand  on  this  spot,  and  look  out  over  society ;  as  I  stand 


316  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1852-1865. 

by  an  open  grave,  and  look  into  the  future,  —  I  think  less  of 
man  and  more  of  God,  I  understand  less  and  believe  more. 
I  have  little  confidence  in  human  speculation,  and  more 
gratitude  than  I  can  express  for  Divine  revelation." 

That  same  summer  he  printed  four  discourses  in 
quick  succession,  —  the  one  just  quoted,  sermons  memo- 
rial of  his  old  associate  on  the  "Examiner,"  Dr.  Lam- 
son,  and  of  the  venerable  Josiah  Quincy,  and  a  ringing- 
installation  sermon  on  "  Loyalty  to  Christ."  An  elder 
brother-in-work  wrote  him  :  ''  Three  such  discourses  in 
so  hot  a  summer  show  that  your  vigor  is  unabated. 
Long  may  it  be  so  !  What  with  progress  and  what  with 
reaction,  I  do  not  see  but  that  it  will  soon  rest  almost 
entirely  on  your  shoulders  to  uphold  Unitarianism  as  it 
ivas  and  the  gospel  as  it  zs."  The  words  apply  still 
more  fitly  to  the  Brooklyn  installation  sermon,  an  elo- 
quent, compact  argument  for  the  old  as  against  the 
ncAv  Unitarianism.  The  ministers  Avere  again  discuss- 
ing theological  differences,  and  Unitarians  in  general 
were  conscious  enough  of  a  drift  in  thought  and  uncer- 
tain enough  of  its  tendency  for  Dr.  Gannett's  clear- 
toned  warning  to  make  a  deep  impression.  It  was 
much  liked  and  much  disliked. 

But  the  vigor  of  a  sermon  tells  little  of  the  man  who 
writes  it.  "  Depressed,  frightened,  asleep,  —  O  shame  ! " 
are  a  type  of  the  words  which  mark  the  autumn-days 
in  the  record,  —  asleep  to  shut  out  the  dark  moods  and 
quiet  the  unstrung  nerves.  It  was  not  time,  however, 
to  stop  trying  to  improve  and  to  do :  — 

Nov.  8,  1864.  "Began  course  of  Lessons  in  Elocution 
from  Mr.  Taverner,  with  Rev.  Messrs.  Chaney  and  Foote, 
in  my  parlor." 

November  14.  "Saw  Dr.  Clarke,  who  calls  the  trouble 
physical,  a  want  of  nervous  force." 


1852-18G5.]  AFTERNOON.  817 

November  20.  "a.m.  preached  new  sermon  on  Genuine 
Charity,     p.m.  preached  new  sermon  on  Religion  Natural." 

And  so  on.  All  through  the  next  spring,  as  the  war 
was  closing  and  men's  hearts  were  growing  lighter,  he 
grew  visibly  more  tired  and  weak.  The  watchful  friend 
last  named  prescribed  a  journey  to  Fayal.  "  What 
would  be  the  use  ?  Temporary  respite  and  relief,  — 
nothing  more."  Then  in  the  strange  revivals  the  old 
hopes  seemed  possibilities,  and  plans  were  renewed  and 
he  could  not  believe  himself  a  sick  man. 

Feb.  28,  1865.  "Called  on  Dr.  Clarke  to  tell  him  I  am 
better,  and,  instead  of  going  away  as  he  proposed,  will  do 
three  things:  1.  go  to  bed  at  11  o'clock;  2.  not  sit  up  Satur- 
day nights ;  3.  spend  one  day  in  every  week  out  of  town  in 
recreation." 

On  May  30,  in  very  trembling  hand,  is  written  : 
*'Went  to  Festival  in  Music  Hall  between  six  and 
seven  o'clock.  Mr.  Ehot  unexpectedly  called  me  up, 
as  I  sat  upon  the  platform.  Spoke  ten  minutes,  and 
was  kindly  received."  The  ''  call  "  is  worth  telling  by 
another.  He  went  late  to  avoid  notice,  but  could  not 
decline  the  invitation  to  the  platform,  so  took  his  seat 
in  a  corner  behind  one  of  the  tables,  too  far  off  to  hear 
distinctly:  his  head  was  down,  and  resting  on  his  hand. 
The  chairman  spied  him  there,  and  presently  began  to 
speak  of  one  whose  name  was  in  all  the  churches  for  his 
zeal  and  helpful  life :  as  he  turned  to  aim  the  summons, 
he  saw  the  old  man  sitting  unconscious  of  any  reference 
to  himself.  "  Yes,"  continued  Mr.  Eliot,  ''  I  told  you 
of  his  modest}',  —  he  doesn't  dream  I  am  speaking  of 
him,"  —  and  so  proceeded  laughingly  till  all  eyes  in  the 
Hall  were  fastened  on  the  white  head  in  the  corner. 
Some  one  touched  him,  saying,  ''  Mr.  Eliot  is  calling  on 


318  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-18G5. 

you."  Turning  with  a  start,  he  caught  sight  of  the  look- 
ing faces  and  half  sprang  to  his  feet,  not  knowing  what 
had  happened,  whether  he  was  waited  for  or  not.  It 
was  such  a  picture  of  surprised  unconsciousness,  amid  all 
the  praising  words,  that  the  whole  audience  broke  out  in 
a  tumult  of  applause  and  welcome.  Then,  leaning  on 
the  table  Avhere  he  was,  he  spoke  a  few  moments  in 
his  earnest  way  about  the  Unitarianism  which  he  loved, 
and  sat  down  again  amid  the  hearty  loud  response  of 
those  who  fondly  listened. 

He  is  still  a  ''  watchman  on  the  walls :  "  — 

May  31.  "  Ministerial  Conference  in  our  Vestry.  .  .  .  Our 
duty  in  reference  to  National  Congregational  Convention 
brought  up  by  me  from  Boston  Association :  the  protest  I 
had  prepared  and  read  to  our  Association  was  read  and 
approved ;  and  E.  S.  Gannett,  C.  A.  Bartol,  and  George  E. 
Ellis  were  appointed  to  take  such  action  as  they  should  think 
proper." 

For  the  Orthodox  Congregationalists,  who  were  about 
to  hold  a  Council  in  Boston,  had  styled  themselves  in 
their  official  documents  the  "  National  Council  of  Con- 
gregationalists," ""  the  entire  body  of  Congregationalists" 
in  our  country."  The  discourtesy  to  Unitarians  was  of 
little  consequence,  but,  if  borne  in  silence,  might  possi- 
bly at  some  time  be  made  the  ground  of  practical  injus- 
tice. The  benefit  of  certain  funds,  for  instance,  still 
belonged  to  members  of  both  sects  in  common.  Hence 
the  protest,  —  a  few  quiet  Avords  published  in  the  papers. 
An  Orthodox  friend  urged  that  it  be  brought  more  di- 
rectly to  the  notice  of  the  Council :  he  answered  :  — 

"  It  seems  to  mc  that,  on  tlie  whole,  we  took  the  course 
which  self-respect  and  courtesy  would  concur  in  recommend- 
ing, when  we  made  a  brief  and  unimpassioned  statement  to 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  319 

the  public,  by  which  we  hoped  to  guard  our  own  rights, 
instead  of  suing  for  a  favor  before  the  Council,  or  attempting 
to  embarrass  their  proceedings  by  our  remonstrance.  Our 
sole  object  was  to  maintain  our  position  as  Congregation- 
alist-3,  which  we  have  tried  to  do  in  the  simplest  way.  If 
the  Council,  with  the  facts  before  them,  of  which  they  cannot 
now  be  ignorant,  choose  of  their  own  will  to  repair  the  injus- 
tice which  has  been  done  by  their  committee,  however  inad- 
vertently, we  shall  be  pleased;  but  we  prefer  that  they 
should  act  from  their  own  sense  of  right,  and  not  on  any 
solicitation  of  ours,  as  if  we  came  either  seeking  a  favor  or 
demanding  an  apology." 

Still  a  watchman,  —  but  getting  ready  now  to  yield 
his  post :  — 

June  6.  "Mr.  Sweetser  here  to  persuade  me  to  go  to 
Europe.     Told  him  I  could  not." 

June  22.  "Mr.  Sweetser,  Mr.  McGregor,  and  Mr.  James 
Read  here  with  a  paper  signed  by  gentlemen  and  ladies  of 
our  congregation  asking  me  to  go  abroad,  and  enclosing  a 
check  for  $3,000!!  Told  them,  after  a  moment's  thought, 
that  I  would  go;  not  because  I  needed  it,  but  because  I  did 
not  see  how  I  could  refuse  such  kindness,  pressed  upon  me 
in  such  a  way,  and  after  previous  refusals.  They  wish  me 
to  be  gone  through  the  winter  and  spring,  but  I  said  I  would 
only  take  four  months.  They  wish  me  to  go  soon,  but  I  can- 
not leave  home  till  the  close  of  July,  without  neglecting 
things  that  I  wish  to  do." 

And  they  wished  him  to  take  the  $3,000,  but  he  would 
only  take  81,000. 

When  he  crossed  the  sea  before,  although  more  broken 
down  than  now,  he  had  youth  in  him  to  help  recovery. 
Now  he  had  old  age ;  and  the  work  was  mainly  over  at 
the  best,  and  he  felt  that  he  must  hurry  home  to  do  a 


820  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1852-1865. 

little  more  while  the  day  lasted.  Then  his  companion 
was  the  wife  just  married :  now  a  grown-up  son  went 
with  him,  who  but  dimly  remembered  the  mother's  face 
that  so  long  since  had  vanished  from  the  home.  Be- 
tween the  two  journeys  and  companionships  lay  nearly 
thirty  years  of  an  earnest  trier's  life. 

His  plan  had  been  to  spend  the  tin>e  in  England, 
renewing  old  acquaintance  there  with  friends  and  pleas- 
ant places.  But  the  first  fatigues  and  excitements  were 
more  than  he  could  bear.  He  would  ignore  the  weak- 
ness till  utter  weariness  held  him  fast.  "  Was  very 
tired  by  the  foolish  feat,"  he  writes,  of  climbing  the 
worn  stone  stairway  that  winds  to  the  top  of  St. 
Botolph's  church-tower  at  Boston.  There  were  other 
"  feats  "  and  many  such  fatigues.  Besides,  he  was  disap- 
pointed and  ofPended  by  the  English  sympath}^  still  so 
loudly  manifested  for  the  South.  On  the  former  jour- 
ney, the  continent  had  proved  more  restful :  perhaps  it 
might  again.  So  they  crossed  the  channel.  The  two 
days  on  the  Rhine  were  full  of  dear,  sad  memories. 
''  At  St.  Goar  I  think  I  recognized  the  very  house  and 
chamber,  and  old  associations  crowded  hard  upon  me." 
A  leisurely  month  in  Switzerland,  in  which  he  jaunted 
from  place  to  place,  every  three  or  four  days  rejoined 
by  the  young  men  travelling  on  foot,  brought  the  first 
health  and  joy.  "  The  first  record  I  have  been  able  to 
make  in  my  journal  since  I  landed.  Am  writing  in  a 
nice  little  chamber  in  Hotel  Suisse  in  Interlaken,  feeling 
better  in  body  and  mind  than  at  any  time  since  I  left 
Liverpool."     While  here,  he  notes  :  — 

"  Went  to  the  English  Church  under  the  same  roof  with 
the  '  Catholic  Chapel.'  Heard  a  good  and  true  sermon  from 
'Work  out  your  own  salvation;    for,'  &g.      1.    The  duty. 


1852-1865.]  AFTERNOON.  821 

2.  The  motive.  Stayed  for  the  Communion  service.  As 
the  minister  went  down  the  aisle  to  change  his  dress,  I  took 
his  hand  and  whispered,  '  I  am  a  Unitarian  minister,  may  I 
commune  with  you  ? '  He  answered  instantly,  '  Yes ; '  then 
added  in  a  kind  manner,  '  Looking  unto  Jesus.'  I  went  to 
the  altar  with  the  rest,  knelt,  and  received  the  elements. 
He  said  nothing  unpleasant,  and  I  enjoyed  the  service,  and 
hope  it  was  sincerely  used  and  gave  me  strength." 

After  loitering  at  Berne,  Geneva,  and  the  Leukerbad 
with  its  wonderful  mountain-ride  and  the  odd  scene  in 
the  tanks,  traversing  the  Simplon,  and  pausing  two  or 
three  days  among  the  Italian  Lakes,  he  recrossed  the 
mountains,  and  by  long  rides  down  the  beautiful,  wild 
Engadine  reached  Innsbruck.  Sight-seeing  on  two 
canes,  with  a  conscience  behind  them,  was  no  play. 
The  quick  run  through  the  German  capitals  and  Paris 
sadly  tired  him  ;  for  he  must  seize  the  opportunities  — 
his  last,  he  kept  saying  —  of  learning  what  he  might. 
But  then  followed  three  pleasant  weeks  in  England 
among  kind  greetings  from  the  London  ministers, 
and  cherished  friends  in  Bridport  and  Bristol.  Three 
months  from  the  time  he  left  the  steamer,  he  again 
entered  it  at  Liverpool,  brightened,  but  not  greatly 
strengthened.  The  seasickness  that  began  in  the  Irish 
Sea  lasted  to  the  wharf  in  Boston  harbor.  He  grew  so 
weak  that  the  doctor  feared  he  might  not  reach  the 
land ;  but  Charles  Humphreys  was  with  him,  and  the 
son-like  care  was  given  constantly.  When  they  ar- 
rived, one  Thursday  afternoon,  there  was  careful  anxiety 
that  his  schedule  of  foreign  trifles  should  be  duly  reported 
to  the  custom-house  officials ;  and  then  he  was  helped  off 
the  vessel,  and  borne  to  the  home  and  the  welcome. 
Mr.  Little,  one  of  his  parishioners,  had  bidden  the  peo- 

21 


.^99 


EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1852-1865. 


Although 


pie  to  his  house  to  greet  their  minister, 
he  was  too  weak  to  stand,  as  he  sat  there  in  the  arm- 
chair feeling  that  they  loved  him,  it  was  a  happier 
evening  far  than  any  he  had  spent  away. 

The  next  Sunday  he  stood  in  his  pulpit  and  preached ! 


AXLINGTOM  STKEET  PULPIT. 


X. 


A  FATHER  IN  THE  CHURCH. 

1865-1871. 

The  sermons  defending  the  faith  at  the  dedication, 
the  "fortieth  anniversary,"  and  the  Brooklyn  installa- 
tion, have  revealed  the  fact  that  change  in  the  faith  was 
going  on.  The  later,  like  the  earlier,  trip  to  Europe 
happened  to  fall  at  an  important  moment  in  the  Unita- 
rian history. 

Since  the  days  when  Emerson  first  lectured  and 
Parker  preached,  the  mental  outlook  had  widened,  — 
widened  on  many  sides,  from  many  causes.  Eyes  were 
no  longer  rare  that  saw  in  the  "  new  views "  truth 
fitted  to  make  men  glad.  Unitarian  laymen,  not  a  few, 
and  many  of  the  younger  preachers,  no  longer  thought 
the  Fathers'  thought.  Two  "  wings  "  had  slowly  been 
developed  in  the  body.  The  term  "  old-fashioned  Uni- 
tarianism  "  had  come  in  vogue,  while,  denoting  some- 


324  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1865-1871. 

thing  divergent  from  it,  the  term  ''  Liberal  Theology  " 
was  winning  a  new  meaning  from  the  age.  Besides  the 
change  in  actual  ideas,  minds  had  grown  more  liberal 
in  temper.  The  Unitarian  principle  that  exalted  good 
life  above  creed,  good  or  bad,  had  steadily  won  its  way. 
Those  who  occupied  the  ground  on  which  the  West 
Roxbury  heretic  had  stood  were  no  longer  sharply 
challenged  ;  and  the  space  on  the  other  side  which  sep- 
arated ''  old-fashioned  Unitarianism  "  from  Orthodoxy 
had  also  man}^  settlers,  —  deep-hearted  Unitarians  and 
fresh-minded  Evangelicals  fraternizing  there  quite  near 
each  other.  More  and  more  stress  was  laid  on  "  unity 
of  the  spirit."  One  natural  consequence,  however,  was 
resulting  from  this  stress,  —  a  certain  blur  around  ideas, 
a  loss  in  clear  thinking  and  expression.  The  standard, 
too,  of  ministerial  scholarship  had  fallen,  as  such  scholar- 
ship became  less  specialized.  And  this  haj^pened  at 
the  very  time  that  the  other  sects,  who  shared  quite  as 
largely  in  the  impulse  of  the  age,  were  adding  scholar- 
ship and  culture  to  their  means  of  influence.  Compared 
with  them,  the  Unitarians  as  a  sect  had  been  losing  social 
and  intellectual  rank.  In  the  general  advance,  the  rear 
had  pressed  forward  towards  the  van;  while  those  who 
were  now  the  foremost  no  longer  represented  any  one  ec- 
clesiastical connection.  Of  course,  the  Unitarians  claimed 
and,  although  with  exaggeration,  rightly  claimed,  that 
this  gain  in  religious  culture  and  liberality  throughout 
the  land  was  itself  in  part  their  spiritual  harvest,  the 
effect  of  their  brave  stand  for  freedom. 

As  early  as  1860  Dr.  Gannett  thus  suggests  the  situa- 
tion in  a  letter  to  Rev.  Mv.  Carpenter,  his  English  friend : 

"I  cannot  tell  you  —  for  I  do  not  tliink  any  one  can  tell 
—  how  theological  or  ecclesiastical  matters  stand  with  us. 
Every  thing  is  at  loose  ends.     We  are  jrood-natured  enough ; 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER   IJV  THE   CHURCH.  o2b 

but  all  sorts  of  opinions  shelter  themselves  under  the  pro- 
tection of  'Liberality,'  —  this  is  the  favorite  word  just  now, 
'  Unitarian '  having  gone  out  of  fashion.  Our  young  men 
are  bold,  careless,  crude,  one  is  often  tempted  to  say:  our 
old  men  are  driven  too  far  by  reaction.  Mr.  Parker's  death 
has  called  out  several  sermons,  which  deal  more  in  eulogy 
than  in  exposure  of  the  serious  error  which  belonged  to  his 
theology.     Where  we  shall  end,  I  know  not." 

And  again,  in  November,  1862 :  — 

"The  palmy  days  of  Unitarianism  have  gone  by,  union 
and  co-operation  have  yielded  to  individualism,  and  the 
'Liberal  Theology'  of  the  present  time  embraces  opinions 
of  every  sort,  from  semi-Trinitarianism  to  ultra-Parkerism. 
HoAvever,  God  will  take  care  of  His  own  truth ;  and,  if  we  are 
not  worthy  to  uphold  it,  the  charge  must  j^ass  into  other 
hands." 

No  break  as  yet.  But  certain  signs  betokened  that 
a  break  might  be  near  at  hand.  The  ministers  began 
to  ponder  their  relation  to  each  other,  and  the  possible 
limits  of  pulpit-exchange. 

"Feb.  13,  1865.  a.m.  Ministerial  Union;  address  by 
Rev.  J.  F.  Clarke  on  Union,  against  a  Separation,  in  the  Uni- 
tarian body.     Earnest  discussion. 

"p.m.  Ministers'  Association  meeting  at  Rev.  Dr.  Nath. 
Frothingham's.  Large  meeting,  —  thirty  there,  —  several  not 
of  the  Association.  Subject  of  discussion,  Our  Differences. 
Dr.  Frothingham  said  we  were  all  Rationalists,  all  Naturalists, 
all  Supernaturalists ;  defining  these  terms  in  his  own  way, 
and  having  acknowledged  and  spoken  of  a  centre  and  two 
wings  in  our  body." 

"  Feb.  20.  Ministerial  Union,  to  hear  address  from  Rev. 
Dr.  Bellows  on  the  New  York  Convention,  or  rather  on  the 
opportunity  thrown  before  the  Unitarian  denomination.   Dis- 


826  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1865-1871. 

cussion  turned  very  much  on  the  differences  between  us, 
which  most  of  the  speakers  considered  unimportant,  their 
idea  being  that  the  Cln-istian  spirit  and  Christian  work 
made  a  man  a  Christian.  The  liberal,  or  progressive,  or  left 
wing,  evidently  meant  to  control  the  future  action  of  the 
denomination,  and  to  silence  the  more  conservative  part  of 
the  body." 

"  March  13.  Ministerial  Union.  Rev.  O.  B.  Frothingham 
read  an  elaborate,  able,  and  brilliant  address  on  the  Ground 
of  Unity  among  us,  in  reference  to  the  New  York  Convention  ; 
not  unity  of  spirit,  nor  unity  of  work,  neither  of  which,  as  he 
showed,  is  a  basis  in  itself,  but  unity  of  thought,  which  he 
described  us  as  having  in  respect  to  God,  Christ,  the  Bible, 
liberty,  &c. ;  imputing  to  us  views  which  some  of  us  would 
reject." 

At  the  same  time,  these  very  signs  and  others  showed 
that  the  practical  tendencies  of  the  denomination  were 
about  to  flower  into  a  new  enthusiasm.  Never  since 
the  early  days  had  the  opportunity  seemed  so  good  for 
promoting  a  liberal  form  of  Christianity.  It  was  just  at 
the  close  of  the  war.  The  sympathies  wakened  by  the 
four  years  of  struggle  had  crossed  sect-lines  'as  well  as 
State-lines.  Dogmas  had  paled  before  stern  tests  of  life 
and  death,  and  differencing  creeds  grew  small  by  the 
side  of  the  helpfulness  in  which  all  joined  heart  and 
hand.  To  earnest  Unitarians,  the  opportunity  spoke 
like  God's  command  to  strip  off  the  traditions  of  culture 
and  aristocracy  that  had  so  long  stifled  influence,  and 
to  press  among  the  people  with  their  gospel.  In  April, 
1865,  they  met  in  National  Conference  at  New  York,  to 
carry  out  their  purpose.  The  whole  body  seemed  to  be 
vitalized.  The  churches  were  soon  organized  into  Local 
Conferences,  reporting  to  a  General  Conference  every 
year  or  two.     New  missionary  effort,  both  in  East  and 


1865-1871.]     A   FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH.  827 

West,  was  resolved  on,  and  far  larger  contributions  than 
were  ever  asked  before  were  easily  obtained.  Cit}^- 
theatres  were  engaged  for  free  Sunday  services,  and  the 
great  audiences  seemed  to  show  that  the  people  had 
been  reached.  Here  and  there  "  Unions  "  sprang  up 
for  benevolent  work  and  social  fellowship.  A  popular 
monthly  —  a  magazine  less  of  ideas  than  of  stories  em- 
bodying ideals,  and  of  records  to  stimulate  practical 
progress  —  took  the  place  of  the  scholarly  "  Examiner," 
that  had  crept  the  round  of  the  ministers'  studies  for 
so  many  years.  Before  long  a  new  Theological  School, 
with  a  lowered  standard  of  education,  was  established, 
in  the  hope  of  inducing  more  young  men  to  enter  the 
Liberal  ministry.  And  the  doctrinal  basis  of  the 
denomination  was  widened  as  far  as  the  National  Con- 
ference could  widen  it  while  remaining  distinctly 
''Christian:"  "Other  Christian  Churches"  had  been 
invited  to  join  the  Conference ;  and  presently,  to  meet 
the  objections  of  certain  friends  disturbed  by  a  creed- 
like phrase  in  the  Constitution  referring  to  the  "  Lord- 
ship "  of  Jesus  Christ,  an  article  was  expressly  added  to 
declare  that  all  such  expressions  represented  only  the 
belief  of  the  majority,  and  bound  none  who  did  not 
freely  give  assent.  —  Possibly  this  uprising  and  girding 
of  the  loins  for  a  mission  among  the  people  may  by  and 
by  be  recognized  as  the  beginning  of  a  new  era  in 
Unitarian  history. 

Had  Dr.  Gannett  been  a  younger  man,  no  one  would 
have  leaped  more  instantly  to  the  front  to  engage  in 
such  a  mission  ;  and  he  had  gifts  of  enthusiastic  con- 
viction and  eloquence  that  would  have  fitted  him  for 
special  service  in  it.  But  now  by  age  he  was  disabled, 
and  the  years  that  had  weakened  the  body  had  tempered 
—  not  destroyed  —  enthusiasm.     He  was  revered  on  all 


328  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.   .     [1865-1871. 

sides  as  a  noble  example  of  the  "  elder  tj^pe  of  Uni- 
tarianism."  Sucli  reverence  implies  a  growing  loneliness 
for  the  one  revered.  He  was  not  so  sure  as  many  were 
that  the  age  was  yearning  for  "  Liberal  Christianity,"  and 
that  the  West  was  a  field  white  already  to  its  harvest ; 
he  did  not  see  all  prospects  in  the  sunrise  light  that 
gladdened  other  eyes.  Yet,  so  far  as  he  was  able,  he 
joined  heartily  —  and  heartily  with  him  meant  actively 
—  in  all  the  new  plans. 

In  February,  1867,  he  again  writes  his  friend  in  Eng- 
land about  the  situation  :  — 

"  The  Unitarian  denomination  here  is  in  a  strange  state. 
On  the  one  side  a  strenuous  effort  is  made,  and  not  without 
success,  to  produce  more  organization,  compactness,  unity; 
and,  on  the  other  side,  individualism  and  radicalism  were 
never  so  outspoken  before.  It  is  no  longer  unkind  or  invid- 
ious to  call  certain  gentlemen  Radicals.  They  adopt  the 
title,  and  seem  to  delight  in  it.  They  have  a  periodical 
under  that  name,  ably  conducted.  They  are  found  in  the 
ministry  and  among  the  laity.  They  value  the  Bible  and 
the  teachings  of  Christ,  but  allow  an  intrinsic  authority  to 
neither.  Most  of  them,  if  not  all,  are  earnest  men,  thoroughly 
sincere  and  religious.  Many  of  the  younger  ministers  are 
found  among  them.  It  becomes  a  serious  and  a  difficult 
question  how  far  co-operation  may  be,  or  can  be,  secured 
between  'the  old-fashioned  Unitarians,'  as  they  are  called, 
and  the  '  new  school.'  We  meet  this  question  at  every  turn. 
It  is  continually  bringing  into  view  inconsistency  in  this  man 
and  in  that  man.  Some  few  are  in  favor  of  separate  organ- 
ization, which  others  discourage.  Here  and  there  one  like 
.  .  .  stands  aloof  from  all  participation  in  Unitarian  move- 
ments.      has  been  led  by  his  exclusive  devotion  to  the 

doctrine  of '  the  Spirit '  into  statements  that  seem  almost  to 
discredit  external  revelation.     The  '  Christian  Register '  and 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER   IN  THE   CHURCH.  329 

the  'Liberal  Christian'  try  to  prevent  discord  and  separation, 
and  are  therefore  amusing,  if  not  painful,  examples  of  a  literal 
self-denial.  Their  columns  represent  Unitarianism  as  pros- 
pering and  spreading  beyond  all  former  times.  I  doubt  the 
accuracy  both  of  the  statistics  and  the  conclusions  which 
they  are  made  to  support.  Our  churches  in  Boston  arc 
stronger,  probably,  than  they  were  five  or  ten  years  ago;  but 
so  are  the  churches  of  every  other  denomination.  There  is 
more  activity  in  the  religious  world.  The  war  taught  people 
to  do  and  to  give,  and  now  they  turn  their  awakened  ener- 
gies into  channels  nearer  home." 

The  address  which  he  delivered  in  July,  1867,  at  the 
semi-centennial  celebration  of  the  Cambridge  Divinity 
School,  reveals  in  part  his  own  answer  to  what  he  calls 
the  "  serious  and  difficult  question."  It  was  a  some- 
what notable  occasion.  The  Alumni  gathered  from  far 
and  near,  —  old  pastors,  resting  from  labors  that  began 
in  sheltering  the  infant  Unitarianism  from  Orthodox 
exposition  ;  the  well-known  preachers,  strong  leaders  of 
the  day;  and  fresh-faced  graduates  just  entering  the 
work.  Of  all  the  listeners,  not  more  than  five  or  six 
were  older  than  the  bending,  white-haired  man  who 
spoke  to  them,  and  probably  no  one  still  in  active  service 
was  so  old  as  he.  That ''  question,"  hardly  to  be  avoided 
in  any  case,  happened  to  be  specially  pertinent ;  for  the 
School  had  just  been  made  the  object  of  sharp  criticism 
for  fostering  so  many  3'oung  Radicals.  On  this  same 
day,  the  venerable  Professor  Noyes,  sitting  in  his  chair 
before  his  old  pupils,  made  his  last  address  to  them  to 
vindicate  the  right  of  his  young  men  to  think  away  from 
their  teachers  without  incurring  disrepute  as  irreligious. 
The  grateful  tributes  which  Dr.  Gannett  rendered  to 
Norton  and  Ware,  his  own  professors,  have  been  already 
cited  in  another  chapter.     After  reviewing  the  history 


330  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1865-1871. 

of  the  Scliool,  he  went  on  to  speak  of  the  methods  of 
management  which  the  changing  times  demanded :  — 

"  When  gravitation  ceases  to  hold  the  world  together,  the 
Bible  may  cease  to  be  the  all-pervasive  influence  of  a  Divinity 
School;  or,  if  the  latter  change  should  precede  the  other,  the 
institution  will  fall  to  pieces  as  surely  as  would  the  material 
world,  were  the  mighty  power  of  gravitation  withdrawn. 
You  may  have  something  else  without  the  Bible,  and  it  may 
be  something  in  which  men  shall  take  a  senseless  or  a  just 
pride;  but  it  will  not  be  a  Divinity  School,  and,  least  of  all,  a 
Christian  Divinity  School.  .  .  . 

"The  modern  style  of  thought  —  which  makes  human 
nature  the  starting-point  of  religious  inquiry  and  religious 
faith — has  come  into  our  Theological  School  through  open 
doors.  Have  closed  doors,  with  ingenious  fastenings,  kept  it 
out  of  Andover  or  New  Haven  ?  Shall  we  turn  it  out  and 
shut  the  door  against  it?  .  .  .  An  institution  that  did  not 
feel  the  movement  going  on  around  it  would  be  more  ven- 
erable than  useful.  On  the  banks  of  the  Rhine  stands  a 
castle,  which,  while  others  at  no  great  distance  have  fallen 
into  ruins  and  modern  civilization  has  reared  its  dwellings  in 
the  neighborhood,  has  been  fondly  kept  from  decay,  with  its 
furniture  renewed  after  the  old  pattern;  and  there  it  stands 
looking  down  on  the  busy  river  along  which  the  steamboat 
rushes  back  and  forth,  and  the  wire  of  the  telegraph  trans- 
mits intelligence  with  electric  rapidity,  as  it  looked  down 
upon  the  long  silence  or  the  sudden  fierce  conflict  of  the 
mediaeval  times,  —  a  memorial  of  the  past,  which  holds  a 
half-dozen  sleepy  guardsmen  within  its  walls,  and  receives 
an  annual  visit  from  its  royal  owner.  We  want  no  such, 
literary  or  ecclesiastical  structure,  perched  where  the  sjiirit 
of  the  age  cannot  have  access  to  its  apartments.  .  .  . 

"  If  Radicalism  means  only  uprooting,  and  they  who  ac- 
cept the  name  expend  their  strength  in  denied,  there  is  no 
ground  of  sympathy  left  between  them  and  believers;  but 


1865-1871.]      A    FATHER   IN   THE   CHURCH.  331 

if  they,  too,  have  real  foith,  though  it  do  not  answer  to  our 
idea  of  Christian  foith,  and  join  with  it  religious  sensibility 
and  a  conscientious  attitude  of  the  soul  towards  a  spiritual 
life,  there  is  room  for  mutual  respect  and  confidence.  .  .  .  For 
the  sake  alike  of  peace  and  of  prosperity,  for  the  sake  of  the 
School,  and  for  the  gospel's  sake,  the  control  must  remain 
in  the  hands  of  those  who  represent  the  original  design, 
which  was,  as  Ave  have  seen,  to  make  Christian  ministers ; 
and  this  control  must  be  exercised  in  the  interest  of  a  rever- 
ential and  grateful  flxith  towards  him  who  is  the  Head,  even 
Christ.  To  admit  to  an  enjoyment  of  privileges  is  one 
thing ;  to  invite  into  a  share  in  the  government  is  another 
thing.  The  former  maybe  nothing  more  than  justice;  the 
latter,  nothing  less  than  folly." 

"Address  better  received  than  I  expected;  but  I 
omitted  all  mention  of  Dr.  Follen,  having  forgotten  his 
connection  with  the  School."  —  But  the  secret  wish 
was  disappointed :  he  had  hoped  to  inspire  an  effort  to 
do  something  for  the  School.  "  A  grand  opportunity 
was  lost,"  the  Journal  adds,  for  there  was  no  time  to 
consider  his  suggestion :  — 

"  Is  there  no  rich  man  who  will  give  the  forty  thousand 
dollars  that  would  found  a  Professorship  in  our  School? 
There  must  be  more  than  one  such  man,  if  we  could  only 
bring  the  facts  just  as  they  are  before  them.  Then  we  will 
raise,  —  we  poor  ministers,  with  the  grace  of  God  to  help  us 
in  our  address  to  our  people,  will  raise  ten  thousand  more. 
.  .  .  And  then,"  with  the  other  funds  at  command,  "  our 
School  would  have  its  proper  organization,  under  a  sufficient 
body  of  teachers ;  which  it  has  never  had  from  its  beginning 
to  this  day." 

Tn  two  or  three  sermons  written  not  long  after  this 
address,  to  Idndle  his  people  to  zeal  in  the  new  work,  the 
same  "  question  "  had  again  to  be  met  and  answered  :  — 


832  EZRA    STILES    GANNETT.        [1865-1871. 

"What  is  our  duty  towards  those  whom  we  have  been 
accustomed  to  style  our  brethren  in  the  fliith,  although  now 
the  household  be  sadly  divided?  It  is  a  twofold  duty, — 
to  respect  the  rights  and  to  expose  the  errors  (as  we  con- 
sider them)  of  those  from  whom  we  differ.  Every  one  has 
the  right  to  think  for  himself,  and  the  right  to  avow  his 
belief  in  such  terms  as  shall  not  be  scornful  towards  others  ; 
the  right  to  be  esteemed  sincere,  unless  his  dishonesty  be  pal- 
pable, and  to  be  accredited  as  acting  from  pure  motives ;  the 
right  to  be  understood  and  represented  as  he  intends,  and 
the  right  to  pronounce  opinions  which  he  rejects  false  or 
hurtful.  Without  the  mutual  concession  of  these  rights, 
there  can  be  no  profitable  controversy  nor  pleasant  inter- 
course. 

"  With  such  concession,  it  may  be  unwise  to  maintain  a 
union  which  is  rather  nominal  than  real,  and  which  is  made 
the  occasion  of  much  friction  and  frequent  misunderstanding. 
I  frankly  say  that,  if  it  were  possible  to  draw  the  line  of  sep- 
aration, it  seems  to  me  it  would  be  better  —  better  for  the 
truth  and  better  for  ourselves  —  that  they  who  hold  opposite 
opinions  respecting  the  supernatural  work  and  Divine  mis- 
sion of  Jesus  Christ  should  stand  apart,  relieved  from  their 
present  embarrassment  and  left  free  to  follow  their  own  con- 
victions. But,  while  the  broad  space  between  the  extremes 
is  filled  by  gradations  and  complications  of  belief  and  unbe- 
lief, any  such  sharp  division  is  impracticable ;  and  we  can 
only  be  careful  that  we  neither  trench  on  the  rights  of  others 
nor  compromise  our  own.  Let  it  be  remembered  that  we 
cannot  exercise  our  right  of  free  speech  without  virtually 
admitting  that  they  from  whom  we  differ  have  the  same 
right,  which  they  may  exercise  in  condemning  our  opinions. 
There  is  too  often  a  disregard  of  this  fact,  that  can  be  ex- 
plained only  by  taking  into  view  an  infirmity  of  human 
nature,  which  makes  it  diificult  for  most  men  to  do  justice 
to  an  opponent.  If  conservatives  have  been  reluctant  to 
acknowledge  the  sincerity  or  conscientiousness  of  Radicals, 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER  IN   THE   CHURCH.  333 

—  these  terms  are  no  longer  in\ddious,  but  simply  descrip- 
tive, —  the  latter  have  been  as  slow  to  grant  to  the  former 
the  privilege  of  saying  what  they  think.  Both  parties  are 
guilty  of  violating  the  first  principles  of  Christian  morality. 
The  anti-supernaturalist  has  a  right  to  inculcate  both  his 
belief  and  his  disbelief;  and  I  have  a  right  to  say,  in  as  pub- 
lic a  manner  as  he,  that  I  think  the  one  is  as  pernicious  as 
the  other  is  unsound.  Without  impugning  motives,  we  may, 
each  and  all  of  us,  stand  up  for  the  truth." 

"There  never  has  been  an  attempt"  among  Unitarians 
"  to  impose  silence  on  honest  and  decent  speech.  They  who 
have  been  pained  by  what  others  have  said,  who  were  con- 
nected with  them  in  ecclesiastical  relations,  have  disavowed 
responsibleness  or  participation,  and  have  strenuously  resisted 
the  imputation  to  a  religious  body,  without  their  consent,  of 
the  belief  or  disbelief  of  any  member  of  that  body  :  was  this 
wrong?  The  Unitarian  ministers  of  this  or  that  Association 
never  excluded  or  persecuted  Mr.  Parker.  They  refused  to 
be  made  responsible  for  his  opinions  by  any  conventional 
position  in  which  they  were  placed,  and  they  claimed  the 
right — the  same  which  they  accorded  to  him — of  declaring 
and  defending  their  own  convictions.  This  was  the  height 
of  their  offence  against  Christian  liberty,  —  an  offence  which 
proved  them  to  be  its  consistent  vindicators.  The  unhappy 
feelings  of  that  period  —  for  such  feelings  there  were — have 
passed  away ;  but  the  history  of  that  period  has  been  unfairly 
told,  and  I  wish  here  and  now,  for  the  sake  of  the  younger 
members  of  this  congregation,  to  bear  my  testimony,  founded 
en  a  close  acquaintance  with  the  facts  of  that  time,  to  the 
open,  honorable,  and  Christian  treatment  which  Mr.  Parker 
received  from  his  brethren.  If  they  disliked  his  theology,  if 
they  thought  it  inadequate  and  unscriptural,  might  not  they 
copy  his  example  of  frankness  ?  Had  they  practised  decep- 
tion, I  should  not  have  a  word  to  say  on  their  behalf  They 
but  exercised  the  right,  of  which  on  his  side  they  had  neither 
the  power  nor  the  desire  to  depiive  him,  of  announcing  their 


334  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT,         [1865-1871. 

dissent  from  what  they  on  theirs  held  to  be  unsound  doc- 
trine. That  right  has  never  been  relinquished  or  betrayed. 
It  is  as  sacred  to-day  as  it  was  twenty  or  fifty  years  ago." 

When  the  National  Unitarian  Conference  inserted  in 
its  Constitution  the  explanatory  article  to  conciliate  the 
Radical  brethren,  most  of  the  ministers  on  reaching 
home  probably  told  their  people  what  they  thought  of 
the  attempt.  What  Dr.  Gannett  said  is  again  charac- 
teristic of  his  tenacious  faith,  bis  outright  speech,  and 
bis  spirit  of  justice  :  — 

"  I  have  been  sorry  to  hear  a  victory  claimed  for  either 
side,  Conservative  or  Radical,  or  to  hear  the  word  'com- 
promise '  used  as  pertinent,  for  I  do  not  understand  that  there 
has  been  concession  or  defeat.  We  have  merely  put  into 
the  Constitution  of  the  National  Conference  a  statement  of 
these  two  facts,  on  which  we  have  always  insisted,  that  the 
Unitarian  body  through  their  common  belief  accept  Christ 
in  his  oflScial  relations  to  mankind,  but  that  they  neither 
exercise  nor  arrogate  the  right  to  compel  any  person  to  hold 
this  belief  under  the  penalty  of  exclusion  if  he  renounce  it. 
They  may  form  and  publish  and  prize  a  creed,  longer  or 
shorter,  as  the  inheritance,  possession,  or  distinction  of  the 
denomination,  but  may  not  force  the  humblest  or  the  weakest 
member  of  the  denomination  to  wear  that  creed  as  a  badge. 

"  It  appears  to  me  that  we  are  still  loyal  to  Christ  and 
true  to  the  traditions  of  our  history.  That  history  began  in 
elevating  righteousness  above  dogma,  character  above  creed, 
and  in  subverting  the  pretensions  of  ecclesiastical  despotism. 
Our  fathers  were  at  once  disciples  of  the  Lord  and  the 
Lord's  freemen.  They  would  accept  no  formulary  of  belief 
with  the  menace  of  Divine  displeasure  for  doubting  its  truth 
held  over  them,  and  they  extended  no  formulary  with  a  similar 
menace  to  others.  It  was  their  office  to  unite  earnest  faith 
with  practical  freedom.     I  conceive,  therefore,  that  we  are 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER   IN  THE   CHURCH.  835 

following  their  example  when  we  cleave  to  Christ,  yet  leave 
others  to  obey  their  convictions.  It  does  not  devolve  on  us 
to  be  the  arbiters  of  any  fate  but  our  own. 

"  You  know,  my  friends,  how  tenacious  I  am  of  faith  in 
the  miraculous-  mission  and  superhuman  authority  of  Christ. 
To  me  his  gospel  is  the  very  word  and  grace  of  God.  "With- 
out him  as  a  divinely  inspired,  a  special  and  a  sufficient 
Teacher,  I  should  have  no  mercy  to  lean  on,  no  hope  to 
cherish ;  for  I  cannot  discover  in  natural  religion  instruction 
adequate  to  my  need  as  a  sinner  and  as  one  over  whom 
death  will  assert  its  power.  .  .  .  The  decay  of  faith  in  him,  I 
am  persuaded,  would  turn  back  the  current  of  civilization  and 
deprive  man  of  his  dearest  spiritual  resources.  It  is  through 
Christ  alone,  as  I  think,  that  men  are  authorized  to  call  upon 
God  as  the  Father,  or  that  a  sinful  world  can  ever  realize 
the  salvation  after  which  it  is  groping.  .  .  . 

"  But  I  have  never  dared  to  say  that  men  must  think  on 
this  subject  as  I  think  or  be  lost,  I  dare  not  j^ronounce  scep- 
ticism invariably  the  fruit  of  an  evil  heart,  nor  do  I  wish  to 
call  a  man  an  infidel  because  his  appreciation  of  Christ  is 
different  from  mine.  I  cannot  ask  the  Trinitarian  nor  the 
Radical  to  respect  my  rights,  unless  I  respect  theirs.  The 
Christianity  of  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  is  my  Christian- 
ity, and  I  do  not  believe  it  is  Christiamtj ;  but  it  does  not 
fall  within  the  obligations  or  the  privileges  of  my  life  to  divest 
them  of  a  name  which  they  account  theirs  as  rightfully  as  I 
account  it  mine.  If  they  are  good  men,  humble,  devout, 
benevolent,  true,  I  will  try  to  convince  them  that  they  still 
lack  one  thing,  I  will  do  all  that  I  honorably  may  to  prevent 
the  diffusion  of  their  opinions  through  the  community,  and  I 
will  pray  to  God  to  open  their  eyes  that  they  may  see  the 
whole  truth ;  but  I  will  not,  I  may  not,  I  cannot,  heap  on  them 
terms  of  reproach,  and  pronounce  them  sciolists,  heretics,  or 
knaves.  Of  the  Radicalism  of  the  day  I  will  speak  as  perni- 
cious, and  happily  short-lived;  but,  among  those  by  whom  it 
is  professed,  I  see  too  much  goodness  to  permit  me  to  become 


336  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1865-1871. 

their  accuser.  .  .  .  From  the  iumost  places  of  my  being,  I 
cry  out  for  the  one  Mediator  between  God  and  man.  But 
I  do  not  the  less  abhor  the  temper  which  imputes  evil  mo- 
tives to  those  who  will  not  sit  at  his  feet,  and  ascribes  all 
unbelief  to  a  bad  heart.  Such  loyalty  to  the  name  of  Christ 
is  disloyalty  to  his  spirit  and  example." 

The  theses  of  the  college-graduate  in  1820,  and  the 
last  published  exposition  of  Unitarianism  which  he  gave 
in  1871,  are  essentially  the  same.  He  had  not  been 
ashamed  of  the  faith  when  it  needed  champions  to  win 
first  standing-ground ;  nor  was  he  ashamed  of  it  now, 
when  the  force  of  thought  in  his  own  denomination  was 
going  more  and  more  against  it.  But  it  should  be 
added  that  his  belief,  while  centring  firmly  where  it 
did  and  keeping  its  old  outlines,  seemed  to  grow  less 
rigid  at  the  outlines  as  he  grew  older.  Friends  of  for- 
mer days  noticed  in  bis  preaching  a  different,  a  brighter 
tone,  —  less  appeal  to  conscience  through  the  head  and 
more  through  sympathy,  less  of  law  and  more  of  grace. 
''  Of  late,  perhaps,  more  than  in  earlier  years,  I  have 
laid  stress  on  that  word,  '  trust,'  and  on  its  vast  and  gra- 
cious contents,"  he  said  of  himself.  And  yet  "life," 
the  spiritual  life,  "  the  Life  of  God  in  the  Soul  of  Man," 
had  been  the  one  pievailing  theme  of  all  the  years,  the 
thread  running  through  the  sermons  and  coming  to  open 
sight  in  hundreds  probably;  the  prayers  had  always 
been  most  earnest  Avorship ;  the  old  hymns,  ''  Green- 
wood's "  hymns,  had  always  thrilled  with  the  feeling 
Avhich  his  heart  read  into  them  ;  —  perhaps  it  was  chiefly 
the  old  man's  face  and  tones  that  seemed  to  make  the 
service  now  more  tender  and  impressive,  and  the  bene- 
diction sound  as  if  it  gave  for  the  moment  the  gift  that 
it  invoked.  Even  towards  the  young  men,  though  their 
tendencies  hurt  him  sorely,  he  lost  somewhat  of  the 


18G5-1871.]      A   FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH.  337 


faithful  challenger's  feeling.  As  men,  he  had  never 
(lone  them  injustice  ;  but,  living  on,  he  saw  more  surely 
that  reverence  and  piety  could  coexist  with  the  views 
to  him  so  strangely  irreverent.  After  reading  the  Life 
of  Parker  by  John  Weiss,  he  notes :  "  It  has  raised  my 
estimation  of  Parker  immensely.  He  was  a  veiy  learned 
man,  and  a  tender,  true-hearted  man,  honest  and  thor- 
ough." A  letter,  written  to  Mr.  Carpenter  in  1860, 
contains  a  sentence  which  shows  him  half-conscious  of 
the  change : — 

"I  have  never  acknowledged  your  kindness  in  sending 
me  your  lectures  on  the  Atonement.  I  was  the  more  pleased 
with  them,  because  you  have  sometimes  seemed  to  me  less 
zealous  for  Unitarian  doctrine  than  I  am  moved  to  be. 
Mere  pugnacious  Unitarianism,  however,  I  value  less  than 
I  once  did.  Is  it  an  inconsistency  —  I  hope  not  —  that,  as  I 
grow  older,  my  fiith  in  Unitarian  tenets  strengthens,  but  my 
anxiety  for  their  diffusion  abates  ?  I  have  seen  so  much  of 
sectarian  interest  which  yielded  no  spiritual  improvement, 
and  feel  so  much  the  need  we  all  have  of  a  reUgious  life, 
that  I  wish  it  were  possible  to  take  for  granted  that  men 
hold  the  right  belief  and  we  might  expend  all  our  effort  in 
trying  to  make  them  (Jhristians  in  heart  and  life." 

His  reverence  for  the  masters  always  remained  that 
of  a  young  man.  It  is  pleasant  to  see  one  whose  age 
had  elected  him  for  the  Memorial  Address  at  Cambridge 
lading  his  work  before  his  own  elder  for  approval:  — 

July  12.  "Called  on  Rev.  Dr.  Frothingham,  and  read 
him  my  Divinity  School  Address,  nearly  finished.  He 
seemed  to  like  it,  and  suggested  no  change." 

A  few  months  later,  the  same  feeling  led  him  to  sug- 
gest and  carry  out  another  commemorative  service  of 

22 


388  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1865-1871. 

rather  an  unusual  kind.  On  the  first  Sunday  in  Octo- 
ber, 1867,  the  church  was  filled  with  old  parishioners 
and  friends.  A  quarter  of  a  century  had  passed  since 
Channing's  living  voice  had  ceased. 

"  It  seemed  but  right,  at  the  close  of  such  a  period,  that 
we  should  join  in  some  expression  of  gratitude  to  him 
from  whom  we  had  received  the  best  instruction  of  our  Uves, 
as  well  as  of  admiration  for  one  who  had  secured  a  place 
among  the  world's  benefactors."  .  .  . 

.  "I  was  obliged  to  take  some  part, relying  on  other  gentle- 
men to  make  the  occasion  what  it  should  be.  Mr.  Edward 
Wigglesworth  presided.  We  had  four  admirable  addresses. 
Dr.  Walker  spoke  of  T)y.  Channfng  as  a  reformer.  Dr.  Hedge 
commented  on  his  writings,  Mr.  Hillard  described  him  as 
preacher  and  pastor,  and  Dr.  Clarke  spoke  of  his  general 
relations  to  society." 

The  pastor's  own  contribution  referred  chiefly  to  the 
sources  of  Channing's  wondrous  influence  as  a  preacher, 
—  his  intense  faith  in  the  truth  he  uttered,  the  depth  of 
personal  experience  from  which  the  utterance  came,  the 
absolute  integrity  of  purpose  and  mental  fairness  which 
lifted  his  vision  above  sectarian  bounds  and  kept  him 
always  a  learner,  always  the  fearlcips  advocate  of  free- 
dom, yet  never  of  that  freedom  which  disowns  rever- 
ence and  humility. 

This  was  his  attitude  towards  the  elders.  Of  his  way 
among  young  men,  Mr.  Fred.  F.  Lovell,  one  of  his  pupils 
in  the  new  Theological  School  alluded  to  a  few  pages 
back,  sends  the  following  pleasant  picture.  Jt  was  during 
this  same  autumn  (1867)  that  Rev.  Mr.  Hepworth's  zeal 
founded  the  new  School.  Several  Unitarian  ministers 
gave  their  services  as  instructors,  and  Dr.  Gannett  was 
pressed  to  teach  ''  Systematic  Divinity,"  or,  as  he  pre- 
ferred to  call  it,  ''  the  truths  of  religion."     It  was  famil- 


1865-1871.]      A    FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH.  339 

iar  work.  Again  and  again  had  he  gone  over  the  themes 
at  church  and  vestry-meeting.  And  yet  he  was  reluc- 
tant to  take  the  place,  doubting  much  his  "  fitness  "  for 
it.  He  finally  consented,  but  made  his  relations  with 
the  students  far  less  professorial  than  friendly. 

"  He  came  to  us  old  in  Christian  hfe,  yet  humble  as  a  cliild  ; 
perplexed  sometimes  by  what  seemed  to  him  flippant  cavilr 
ling,  and  his  brow  would  knit  in  pain,  yet  he  was  always 
forbearing.  I  think  he  united  in  himself  the  faculty  of  being 
severe,  just,  and  kind,  in  a  greater  degree  than  I  ever  knew 
in  another.  He  always  felt  it  to  be  proper  that  a  student 
should  freely  express  his  opinion,  however  much  opposed  to 
the  ideas  which  were  deeply  cherished  by  himself.  This  ex- 
pression sometimes  took  a  form  that  seemed  to  him  irrever- 
ent. He  instantly  apprehended  the  departure  from  logical 
argument  to  ridicule  or  scoffing,  and  would  so  kindly  yet 
firmly  and  pertinently  point  out  the  error,  that  the  very 
mildness  of  tone  made  it  only  the  clearer,  and  left  the  objec- 
tor confused  and  silent.  Never  in  the  most  heated  debates 
did  he  lose  that  regard  for  the  opinions  and  feelings  of  others 
wdiich  WMS  so  marked  a  trait  of  his  character.  I  fear  w^e  some- 
times hurt  him  more  than  we  should  have  hurt  a  less  sensi- 
tive man.  Some  of  us  would  choose  oft-times  to  assume  the 
role  of  Gamaliel  himself  rather  than  sit  at  his  feet  and  learn; 
and  in  this  ignorance  we  would  smile  at  his  mannerisms,  and 
the  systematic  arrangement  of  his  books  preparatory  to  the 
exercises.  But  somehow  he  drove  a  wedge  into  all  our 
hearts,  and,  taking  out  much  that  was  crude,  rough,  and 
mean  in  them,  set  a  love  for  natures  like  his  own  there  in  its 
stead.  He  bound  himself  to  us  by  a  stronger  tie  than  we 
knew,  until  an  event  occurred  that  told  us  how  much  we 
loved  him. 

"  You  may  perhaps  catch  my  idea  better,  if  I  illustrate  by 
an  incident.  Among  the  gentlemen  of  the  School  was  one 
of  middle  age,  strong  in  physical  life  and  equally  strong  in 


340  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1865-1871. 

all  his  opinions.  He  had  been  used  to  the  exhortations  of 
the  Baptist  school,  was  rough,  outspoken,  but  royal-hearted, 
good  and  honest,  more  conservative  than  the  Doctor  him- 
self. I  think  the  Doctor  loved  the  man  for  the  very  honesty 
of  purpose  that  caused  him  to  combat  some  of  his  favorite 
points  so  sturdily.  But  their  mental  contests  over  the  vexed 
questions  of  Divine  Sovereignty  and  Human  Free  Agency 
were  frequent  and  vehement.  Upon  one  hot  July  day,  near 
the  close  of  the  month,  the  Doctor  came  to  us  a  little  more 
worn  than  usual.  His  face  bore  upon  it  a  look  of  weariness 
as  he  placed  his  canes  upon  a  chair  and  took  his  accus- 
tomed glass  of  water.  It  was  our  Baptist  friend  that  passed 
the  water,  and  he  could  not  refrain  from  at  the  same  time 
driving  a  peg  of  his  pet  theory  of  '  man's  subordination  to 
circumstances.'  No  one  thought  the  Doctor's  reply  severe 
at  the  time ;  it  excited  no  comment  from  any  of  us.  But  he, 
upon  reflection,  feared  that  the  answer  had  sprung  from 
the  uncomfortableness  and  irritability  of  the  moment,  and 
that  it  was  not  a  judicious  refutation  of  the  idea  put  forward. 
To  feel  himself  to  have  been  in  error,  with  Dr.  Gannett,  was 
to  make  immediate  reparation.  So  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, as  we  were  gathered  for  our  Elocutionary  Exercises  at 
the  Church  of  the  Unity,  the  Doctor  came  in,  and,  during  a 
pause  in  the  recitations,  motioned  our  friend  to  him,  took 
his  hand,  and  said  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  all :  '  Mr.  K., 
I  don't  know  but  that  I  spoke  somewhat  hastily  in  answer  to 
your  query  yesterday.  If  I  did,  you  must  forgive  me.  I  was 
a  little  irritated  from  the  heat  and  walk,  and  hardly  took 
proper  time  to  consider  my  reply.'  Nobody  else  could  have 
said  that  as  Dr.  Gannett  said  it,  —  it  was  so  dignified  yet 
so  gentle,  so  beautiful  in  its  simplicity,  so  grand  and  Christ- 
like  in  its  humility.  They  are  both  in  the  Eternal  Fields 
now.  The  soul  of  the  honest  Maine  missionary  went  first,  and 
I  am  sure  came  joyously  to  welcome  the  dear  old  master  to 
the  home  where  the  ])roblem  was  solved. 

"The  winter  of  18G0  commenced  with   dreadfully  cold 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER   IN  THE   CHURCH.  341 

weather,  streets  filled  with  snow  and  walks  covered  with 
ice.  It  was  apparent  to  all  of  us  that  it  was  only  by  a  great 
exertion  of  will  that  the  Doctor  was  able  to  dominate  the 
physical  sufiering,  which  the  going  to  and  from  the  college, 
together  with  the  mental  labor,  occasioned.  The  exhaustion 
consequent  upon  great  anxiety  lest  he  should  fall  and  break 
his  limbs  in  the  fearful  state  of  the  streets,  encumbered  as  he 
was  with  canes  and  books,  left  him  so  weak  that,  upon  reach- 
ing tlie  chapel,  he  would  often  seem  unable  to  speak  for  sev- 
eral moments.  Then  he  was  always  afraid  he  should  not  do 
enough.  He  made  a  more  rigorous  standard  for  himself  than 
for  us ;  and  one  day,  as  I  was  assisting  him  over  the  sidewalk, 
he  phrased  it  in  this  fashion :  '  I  am  afraid  I  am  not  doing 
the  young  men  as  much  good  as  I  ought.  I  suffer  greatly, 
and  sometimes  it  is  quite  difficult  for  me  to  keep  my  thoughts 
upon  the  lecture.'  I  said  we  all  felt  it  to  be  asking  too  much 
of  him  that  he  should  come  so  far.  '  I  don't  mind  that ;  but 
I  may  have  to  give  it  up  from  inability  to  present  the  sub- 
jects as  I  think  I  ought.'  This  feeling  seemed  to  grow  upon 
him,  until  one  morning  I  received  from  him  a  note  asking 
me  to  read  his  resignation  as  '  Professor  of  Systematic  The- 
ology '  to  the  School.  The  reason  given  was  substantially 
the  same  as  stated  in  his  conversation ;  viz.,  '  that  he  feared 
he  was  not  doing  the  good  he  ought,  and  that  perhaps  some 
one  else  could  better  fill  his  chair.'  /So  great  was  the  hu- 
mility of  this  saint  among  men ! 

"  I  was  made  heartsick  by  it.  It  occurred  to  me  that  Mr. 
Hepworth  (then  our  President,  and  who  appreciated  better 
than  any  other  the  work  the  Doctor  was  doing  for  us)  could 
suggest  the  best  thing  to  do.  So  I  at  once  submitted  the 
letter  to  him.  He  was  much  moved  by  it,  for  he  knew  the 
Doctor  so  well  that  the  sufiering  and  labor  were  all  brought 
to  his  mind  by  this  uncomplaining  relinquishment  of  his 
duties.  *  Poor  old  man,'  he  said,  '  the  strongest  yet  the 
weakest,  the  most  exalted  and  yet  the  humblest  of  us  all.' 
He  walked  over  to  the  School  with  me,  and  talking  with  us 


342  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [18G5-1871. 

all  in  the  chapel  said,  '  This  must  not  be :  if  we  can  prevail 
upon  him,  we  must,  for  no  one  can  take  his  place  here  now.' 
So  we  all  got  together  and  wrote  out  about  as  heartfelt  a 
petition  to  our  dear  old  fither  as  ever  came  from  human 
bosoms  ;  asking  him,  if  possible,  to  come  back  to  us,  telling 
him  how  he  had  grown  into  our  hearts,  and  that  no  one  else 
could  be  to  us  what  he  was.  And  I  doubt  not  to  him,  as 
well  as  to  many  others,  the  most  satisfactory  part  of  this 
petition  was  the  eagerness  with  which  those  most  obstinately 
opposed  to  his  conservative  ideas  signed  it.  It  was  one  unan- 
imous outgoing  of  all  hearts  towards  this  old  man,  made 
doubly  dear  by  the  thought  that  we  were  to  lose  him.  I  took 
the  request  to  his  house,  and  found  him,  as  usual,  busy  with 
his  books ;  but  he  spared  me  a  few  moments,  took  the  letter 
in  his  hands,  read  it  through  very  carefully,  laid  his  head 
back  upon  the  chair,  and  said,  in  his  own  simple  and  sincere 
language  that  went  straight  to  the  point,  '  Well,  I  am  glad 
that  they  think  I  have  done  them  good :  I  will  consider  this, 
and,  if  I  can,  will  grant  their  request.'  I  went  back  hopeful 
and  happy.  A  few  days  afterward  a  favorable  answer  was 
sent  me  in  a  short  note,  asking  that  it  be  given  to  the  School. 
It  was  joyfully  received.  So  long  as  he  remained  with  us, 
the  pleasure  was  greater  and  greater  to  us;  and  I  believe 
it  gave  him  augmented  satisfaction  to  feel  that  we  did  try 
more  studiously  than  before  to  satisfy  his  requirements. 

"  The  time  allotted  for  the  lecture  was  one  hour,  but  it 
often er  consumed  three.  lie  always  came  thoroughly  pre- 
pared ;  his  subjects  briefed  out  on  half-sheets  of  note-paper, 
the  books  he  wished  before  him.  We  often  were  negligent 
and  inattentive:  he  never  was.  No  matter  how  cold  or 
warm  or  how  much  exhausted  he  was,  with  rigorous  exacti- 
tude he  commenced  and  pursued  the  points  marked  out  for  the 
lecture.  He  would  generally  take  up  the  subject  that  was 
to  form  our  next  essay  to  him,  and  talk  upon  it  for  an  hour, 
the  students  taking  notes  and  occasionally  asking  questions. 
The  themes  were,  — '  Inspiration,'  '  Revelation,'  '  Divinity  of 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER   IN  THE   CHURCH.  343 

Christ,'  *  Origin  of  Sin,'  and  other  subjects  suggested  by 
Scriptural  study  and  our  talks  uj^on  the  lectures.  In  com- 
mencing his  '  talks,'  as  he  loved  best  to  call  them,  his  tone, 
though  distinct,  would  often  be  but  little  above  a  whisper; 
but,  as  he  continued,  his  voice  would  grow  louder,  and  he 
appeared  to  speak  more  easily  to  himself.  At  times,  when 
treating  of  subjects  of  more  vital  importance,  it  always 
seemed,  to  him  than  to  most  men,  —  such  subjects  as  'Hu- 
man Accountability,'  '  Forgiveness  of  Sin,'  and  others  relat- 
ing to  the  kinship  between  this  world  and  the  next,  —  a  sort 
of  inspiration  would  appear  to  take  possession  of  him,  his 
voice  would  become  resonant,  his  eye  brighten,  and  his  deep 
faith  in  the  truths  he  spoke,  coming  from  a  man  who  lived 
them  out,  gave  to  them  almost  an  imperative  force,  and 
lifted  the  speaker  into  a  sublimity  borrowed  from  the 
grandeur  of  the  precepts  that  were  eternal.  The  conversa- 
tion would  at  other  times  become  general,  each  one  defining 
his  position  upon  the  mooted  question.  It  was  always  his 
custom  to  shake  hands  with  each  one  upon  coming  and 
going.  The  essays  written  on  the  subject  of  the  lecture  of 
the  week  previous  were  taken  home  by  him,  and,  after  care- 
ful correction  both  as  to  manner  and  matter,  were  returned 
on  the  next  lecture-day.  The  annotations  and  corrections 
were  often  copious,  and  in  so  great  a  number  of  essays 
required  much  time  and  labor:  often  he  used  a  sheet  or  two 
of  note-paper  in  reviewing  the  subject. 

"  As  I  write,  so  much  that  he  said  and  did  presents  itself 
to  my  mind  that  I  find  myself  running  on  to  an  indefinite 
length.  His  kind,  gentle,  loving  Avays,  always  making  us 
welcome  at  his  own  home,  and  greeting  us  cheerfully  when- 
ever and  wherever  he  met  us,  made  on  some  lives,  I  know, 
an  impression  that  can  never  die  out.  Guileless  as  a  child, 
no  man  could  know  him  and  his  nature  and  not  grow  purer 
and  become  ennobled  by  the  intercourse.  Whenever  I  have 
looked  for  a  life  that  combined  in  one  man  my  ideal  of  purity, 
simplicity,  and  Christlike  self-forgetfulness  in  duty  to  others, 


344  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1865-1871. 

the  name  that  has  come  to  my  lips  almost  unbidden  is  that 
of  dear,  blessed  old  Dr.  Gannett." 

From  the  Journal :  — 

May  20,  1868.  "Twenty-eighth  and  last  lecture  at  the 
School.  On  the  whole  I  have  enjoyed  these  exercises.  The 
young  men  have  given  more  attention  and  shown  more  in- 
terest than  I  expected.  Reading  and  correcting  their  essays 
have  taken  up  a  good  deal  of  time,  but  I  believe  writing  has 
been  very  good  for  them." 

With  all  young  ministers  he  was  a  most  generous 
talker.  The  Sunday  tea  brought  many  a  friendly  con- 
troversy with  them.  Never  did  he  take  advantage  of 
age,  experience,  or  study,  to  overawe  the  crudest  boy 
he  si>oke  with  on  religious  subjects.  On  the  contrary, 
such  a  boy  would  be  taken  at  his  best,  would  perhaps 
hear  his  argument  stated  for  him  better  than  he  himself 
could  state  it,  before  it  was  opposed.  The  old  man  was 
the  one  to  feel  the  loneliness  of  the  dissent,  and  often 
he  did  feel  it  bitterly.  To  hold  discussion  with  him 
was  a  constant  lesson  in  humility  and  noble  fairness,  as 
well  as  in  frank  enthusiasm  for  one's  own  belief.  Now 
and  then  a  word  like  this  occurs  in  the  later  Journals  :  — 

"  Ministers'  Association  i^et.     Discussion  on  the  state  of 

our  Theology.    Dr. opening,  and  answered  by  Drs. 

and on  Radicalism.     I  explained,  and  claimed  justice 

for  the  young  men." 

May  3,  1871.  "Annual  meeting  jof  the  Society  for  Pro- 
moting Theological  Education.  Discussion  about  requiring 
beneficiaries"  (at  the  Cambridge  Divinity  School)  "to  sign  a 
declaration  that  they  'intend  to  enter  the  ministry  of  the  gos- 
pel of  our  Lord  Jesus  Chi-ist,  contained  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment;' .  .  .  and  I  insisting  on  requiring  nothing  but  the 
temas  used  in  Mr.  Williams's  bequest,  *  intending  to  enter  the 


1865-1871.]     A   FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH.  345 

Protestant  ministry.' "  (The  vote  went  against  his  opinion 
of  right.)  "  I  declined  a  re-election  as  one  of  the  directors, 
because  it  would  put  me  in  a  false  position.  In  my  speaking, 
I  was  egotistical  and  vehement  as  usual.  When  shall  1  learn 
self-control?" 

The  impatience  that  occasionally  broke  out  thus  in 
discussion  was  seldom  directed  against  any  one  but  him- 
self and  his  own  inability  to  demonstrate  to  another 
what  to  him  was  sun-clear.  But  the  memory  of  the 
ruffled  words  many  a  time  sent  him  hurrying  back  to 
amaze  some  friend  with  a  petition  for  forgiveness  !  The 
stories  of  his  apologies  are  touching  and  amusing.  Late 
one  night,  a  friend  heard  the  limp  and  the  well-known 
canes  coming  along  the  sidewalk,  and  wondered  what 
necessity  brought  Dr.  Gannett  at  that  hour  to  his  street. 
A  neighbor's  door-bell  rang.  He  heard  an  upstairs  win- 
dow open,  and  then  the  Doctor,  standing  below,  pour 
out  contrition  for  some  hastiness  that  he  feared  had 
given  hurt :  after  which,  the  canes  clicked  lightly  off 
into  the  silence,  —  the  conscience  was  at  rest.  And 
this,  save  as  to  the  midnight,  was  instance,  not  ex- 
ception. To  believe  himself  to  have  wronged  another, 
was  to  tell  that  other  so.  Mortification,  so  constant  in 
him  in  some  forms,  seemed  unknown  as  a  deterrent  from 
confession.  Not  to  confess  would  be  increasing  the  in- 
justice, would  be  simple  dishonesty :  at  once  he  set 
out  for  the  house,  or  sat  down  to  write  the  note.  He 
often  humbled  people  to  the  ground  by  his  own  humility, 
—  never  in  any  other  way.  Indignation  he  knew : 
contempt  or  triumph  was  a  feeling  that  had  absolutely 
no  place  in  him.  At  least,  the  nearest  approach  to  con- 
tempt he  ever  showed  was  a  feeling,  half-indignation,, 
half-amusement,  towards  certain  supercilious  attitudes 
of  American  Episcopalianism. 


346  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1865-1871. 

A  few  passages  from  letters  to  his  son  written  during 
these  latter  years  will  show  how  conscientiously,  at  the 
same  time  how  fairly,  tenderly,  humbly,  he  would,  as  a 
father,  urge  his  faith.  The  last  two  or  three  extracts 
contain  other  words  of  counsel  for  young  ministers :  — 

"  Feb.  5,  1861. 
"I  do  not  quite  agree  with  you  about  the  progress  of 
Unitarianism,  or  the  constant  '  march '  of  thought.  Th(»re 
must  be  truth  somewhere,  and  I  do  not  know  where  to 
look  for  it,  if  not  in  the  Bible.  Now,  if  I  think  the  right 
interpretation  was  put  on  the  Bible  twenty-five  years  ago, 
departure  from  that  interpretation,  whether  in  one  direc- 
tion or  another,  must  be  a  loss  of  truth.  Of  course  the 
Trinitarian  or  the  Calvinist  would  say  the  same  of  any  devi- 
ation from  his  understanding  of  Scripture;  and  he  ought 
to  say  so.  By  every  man  what  seems  to  him  the  truth 
should  be  held  in  fond  regard,  and  he  must  be  sorry  that 
others  reject  it.  Still  no  one  should  question  another's  right 
to  his  own  interpretation.  Each  must  value  his  own  opinion 
(or  faith),  and  accord  to  others  the  same  privilege.  The 
point  on  which  I  insist  is  that  stability,  and  not  movement, 
is  essential.  Growth  must  proceed  from  a  root.  The  mind 
which  has  no  fixed  conclusions  is  not  in  a  healthy  state.  It 
must  have  not  only  principles,  but  conclusions.  Inquiry 
should  not  be  all  the  mind  covets  or  defends.  Inquiry  is 
good  for  nothing,  except  as  it  leads  to  faith.  Some  of  our 
young  men  and  some  of  our  preachers  seem  to  think  that 
the  great  business  of  life  is  seeking  for  truth.  It  seems  to 
me  our  chief  duty  consists  in  using  truth ;  that  is,  in  turning 
settled  convictions  into  elements  of  character." 

Spring  of  1866.     ' 
"You  ask  me  to  give  you  my  opinion  about   your  en- 
tering the  ministry.     I  have  wished  not  to  influence  you, 
for  the  decision  on  so  serious  a  question  should   and  will 
rest  with  you.     But,  as  you  desire  me  to  write  you,  I  will 


1865-1871.]      A    FATHER  IN   THE   CHURCH.  347 

answer  your  inquiry  so  far  as  I  can.  Upon  reading  your 
letter,  I  was  pained  by  the  necessity  which  you  felt  for  us- 
ing such  strong  language  in  regard  to  your  distaste  for  '  a 
life  of  praying  and  preaching.'  I  was  relieved  in  a  measure 
by  turning  back  to  your  remark  concerning  the  '  real  motive 
of  the  minister,'  that  it '  should  be  a  wish  to  do  God  service,' 
as  '  quite  a  different  thing  and  implying  quite  different  pur- 
poses from  a  wish  to  do  peo2)le  service.'  I  think  you  have 
mistaken  this  service  towards  God.  Do  you  consider  '  living 
to  the  glory  of  God '  something  very  different  from  living  for 
the  good  of  others  ?  What  truer  consecration  of  ourselves 
to  God  is  there  than  that  which  consists  in  devoting  our- 
selves to  the  benefit  of  His  creatures,  in  leading  them  to  a 
knowledge  of  His  character  and  a  spiritual  apprehension  of 
His  presence  ?  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  you  have  in  your 
own  thought  dwelt  too  much  on  the  professional  or  ritual 
offices  of  the  ministry,  and  too  little  on  its  general  design 
and  work.  .  .  .  As  I  believe  you  lie  under  a  misapprehen- 
sion, I  certainly  cannot  on  this  ground  dissuade  you  from  it. 
"  There  is  another  jjoint  of  view,  however,  from  which  to 
examine  the  subject.  Have  you  faith  enough,  or  the  right 
faith,  to  make  you  a  Christian  minister?  Whether  you 
have  fiith  enough  for  your  own  salvation,  or  for  the  useful- 
ness you  covet,  is  another  question.  Have  you  such  laith  as 
is  needful  for  a  preacher  in  a  Christian  church,  is  the  ques- 
tion you  (or  I  thinking  about  you)  wish  to  settle.  .  .  .  The 
Bible  will  grow  on  you.  Giving  up  its  authority  on  grounds 
which  seem  to  you  untenable  (on  some  of  which  I  concur, 
on  others  differ  from  you),  you  will  see  in  it  an  adaptation 
to  human  want,  a  sufficiency^  and  a  power,  which  belong  to  no 
other  book.  The  speciality  of  Christ's  position  is  what  I  most 
insist  on.  ...  It  seems  to  me  that  if  your  preaching  should 
proceed  on  the  basis  which  you  have  indicated,  trying  to  build 
up  faith  on  what  you  regard  as  its  strong  support,  and  not 
endeavoring  to  destroy  confidence  in  other  grounds  of  belief 
in  the  same  truth,  it  would  be  essentially  Christian  preaching, 


848  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1865-1871. 

and  you  might  be  a  useful  as  well  as  sincere  Christian  minis- 
ter. If  you  accept  Christ  as  the  Light  of  the  world,  kindled 
by  the  Divine  Hand  for  the  sake  of  innminating  the  path 
along  which  the  generations  of  men  should  seek  God  and  find 
at  once  their  duty  and  their  satisfaction,  j'ou  can  preach  in  his 
name  and  in  his  spirit.  .  .  .  We  puzzle  ourselves  over  defini- 
tions, when  we  dwell  upon  the  miraculous  and  the  super- 
natural; but,  if  we  believe  that  Christ's  mission  and  work 
were  special  through  a  Divine  purpose  and  gift,  we  have  the 
essential  truth,  I  believe,  which  clothes  him  with  authority. 
...  I  agree  with  you  in  holding  indefinite,  rather  than 
precise,  views  of  Christ's  nature  and  rank.  I  probably  differ 
from  you  in  supposing  his  peculiar  spiritual  consciousness  to 
have  been  in  part  the  result  of  an  inspiration  or  influence 
specially  communicated,  and  for  a  special  purpose,  by  God, 
and  not  purely  a  consequence  of  his  own  intellectual  integrity 
and  moral  aspiration.  .  .  . 

"  I  am  more  inclined  than  I  was  to  recognize  the  essen- 
tial authority  of  Christ  where  his  special  authority  is  not 
allowed;  although  to  me,  and  I  think  to  most  men,  that 
is  needful,  and  I  read  in  the  New  Testament  a  continual 
assertion  in  its  behalf.  I  am  more  and  more  persuaded 
that  there  are  different  forms  of  truth  and  different  kinds 
of  evidence  for  different  minds.  The  great  question  is,  not 
what  does  a  man  reject,  but  what  does  he  hold,  and  is  it 
to  him  authoritative  Divine  truth.  If  he  heartily  believe 
it,  let  him  preach  it,  not  antagonistically,  but  positively, 
practically,  and  spiritually.  Some  of  the  men  from  whom  I 
widely  disagree,  on  the  Rationalistic  as  well  as  on  the  Ortho- 
dox side,  claim  my  admiration  for  personal  worth  and  pro- 
fessional industry.  A  great  deal  of  error  may  not  prevent 
one  from  being  both  good  and  useful.  I  dislike  the  tenden- 
cies of  thought  around  me,  yet  they  awaken  mental  activity, 
and  will  probably  lead  to  some  firmer  results  than  have  yet 
been  reached.  Cavil  and  scoff,  arrogance  and  bigotry,  are 
insufferable,  but  honest  and  humble  inquiry  has  its  function 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH  349 

to  discharge  in  the  religious  world.  I  have  no  doubt  of 
man's  need  of  the  Bible,  and  its  just  authority  over  human 
convictions  and  human  lives  will  be  established  by  the  dis- 
cussions through  which  the  age  is  j^assing. 

"  One  word  more :  do  not  take  your  idea  of  the  ministry 
from  what  you  have  seen  in  me.  My  temperament  and 
character  make  me  a  most  unfortunate  example  of  the  cleri- 
cal life.  Other  ministers,  if  you  knew  them,  would  show  you 
how  much  they  loved  it,  and  how  much  their  own  experience 
recommends  it. 

"  May  God  guide  you  to  a  right  decision.  Ask  his  coun- 
sel and  keep  your  heart  open  to  receive  it,  and  He  will  lead 
you.  Yours  affectionately, 

"EzKA  S.  Gannett." 

"Boston,  March  16,  1870. 
"  My  dear  Will,  —  Did  I  not  once  tell  you  that  Mr.  J. 
M.  Barnard  told  me  that  Stuart  Mill  said  that  Jeremy  Ben- 
tham's  *  Theory  of  Legislation,'  Austin  on  '  Jurisprudence,' 
and  Maine  on  '  Ancient  Law '  were  the  three  books  to  be 
read  on  the  subject?  Maine  you  have,  Bentham  is  said  to 
be  out  of  print  (here  at  least),  but  I  have  been  successful  in 
finding  one  copy  of  Austin.  Will  you  accept  it  as  my  birth- 
day gift?  I  have  not  forgotten  that  the  day  is  past  and 
gone,  —  for  I  thought  of  you  much  last  week;  but  it  was  a 
week  of  utter  weariness  and  wastefulness  with  me,  during 
which  I  scaj-cely  went  out  of  the  house.  Forgive  me.  .  .  . 
I  do  wish  you  held  different  religious  opinions ;  for  my  con- 
viction of  the  Divine  origin  and  special  efiicacy  of  Chris- 
tianity grows  stronger,  as  my  consciousness  of  moral  defect 
and  spiritual  need  increases.  I  need  Christ  as  both  a  Teacher 
and  a  Saviour.  I  need  the  supernatural  in  the  Gospel  to 
give  me  an  arm  of  help  or  a  ground  of  hope.  Human  nature 
is  not  sufficient  for  itself,  and  God's  interposition  is  man's 
salvation.     I  long  for  you  to  see  this. 

"Yours  affectionately, 

«E.  S.Gannett." 


350  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1865-1871. 

"Jan.  24,  1869. 
"That  delay  in  the  sermon-writing,  Will,  is  very  bad. 
Pray  do  not  follow  my  bad  example.  Do  not  put  off  writ- 
ing till  the  choice  is  between  Saturday  night  and  nothing. 
I  have  been  half  ruined  by  it.  Don't,  don't  you  begin  in 
that  way.  Resolve  that  your  sermons  shall  be  written 
on  Wednesday  and  Thursday.  Two  days  will  give  you 
time  enough,  and  those  two  days  set  apart  and  keep  for 
this  purpose.  Now  is  the  time  to  save  yourself  from  a  life- 
long bondage  to  a  miserable  habit." 

"July  23,  1869. 
"  It  seems  to  me  you  make  two  mistakes  about  preach- 
ing: one  in  thinking  too  much  of  the  immediate  effect, 
the  other  in  not  believing  that  people  come  to  church 
to  worship,  and  therefore  may  be  benefited  by  a  sermon 
intellectually  poor,  which  yet  falls  in  with  their  devotional 
predisposition.  .  .  .  The  immediate  effect  of  a  sermon  is  sel- 
dom its  best  effect.  The  influence  of  preaching  may  be  like 
the  influence  of  character,  cumulative  and  imperceptible; 
that  is,  the  hearer's  convictions,  purposes,  feelings  are  gradu- 
ally determined  by  the  trains  of  thought  to  which  he  listens, 
even  though  the  separate  discourses  may  make  little  impres- 
sion. Does  not  a  minister's  usefulness  lie  very  much  in  the 
slowly  increasing  influence  of  which  he  may  be  ignorant,  and 
of  which  his  people  may  at  any  one  moment  be  scarcely 
conscious?  The  pulpit  should  educate  the  people  in  right 
thought  and  good  living." 

"  Nov.  1869. 
"  I  believe  stronger  ties  of  interest  will  be  woven  between 
you  and  the  people.  They  will  all  feel  these  bereavements. 
...  I  have  found  that  they  whom  I  have  approached  in 
their  sorrow  have  been  the  persons  with  whom  I  have 
afterwards  held  the  closest  relations;  and  this  I  suppose 
every  minister  would  repeat.  Your  preaching  and  your 
conversation  will  acquire  a  tone  that  only  actual  suffering 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH.  351 

could  give  them.  The  earlier  trials  in  a  minister's  life  are 
full  of  instruction,  his  later  ones  may  be  less  profitable  — 
through  his  fault.  The  secret  of  a  minister's  usefulness  in  a 
bereaved  house  seems  to  me  to  lie  in  the  naturalness  of  his 
sympathy.  If  he  can  go  as  a  friend,  and  let  the  ministerial 
element  come  in  (or  come  out)  as  it  may,  he  will  do  more 
good  than  by  professional  counsel.  But  there  are  two  diffi- 
culties in  the  way,  his  own  consciousness  of  an  official  rela- 
ti:>n,  and  the  unwillingness  of  the  people  to  forget  that  he 
io  a  minister.  He  must  pay  some  regard  to  their  expectation 
that  he  will  give  them  comfort,  and  must  begin  the  conver- 
sation. I  feel  that  I  have  done  the  best  in  the  case,  or  all 
but  the  best,  when  I  have  led  the  mourner  to  open  her  heart. 
If  the  afflicted  will  talk  to  you,  you  will  see  how  to  talk  to 
them." 


The  years  now  were  filling  with  the  thought  that  he 
must  lay  down  work.  On  one  of  his  bright  days  he 
writes :  — 

May  4,  1867.  "Sixty-six  years  old  to-day.  Looking  back 
on  my  experience,  I  feel  that  I  am  old ;  physically,  too,  I  am 
not  as  strong  as  I  was;  and  my  memory  holds  nothing. 
But  in  desire  to  be  busy  and  useful  (without  excitement) 
I  am  more  conscious  of  a  right  purpose  than  perhaps  ever 
before.  I  wish  to  remain  in  the  ministry,  in  spite  of  the 
example  of  those  who,  because  they  have  passed  sixty,  have 
resigned  their  pulpits.  Shall  age  be  a  disqualification  for 
the  ministry?  At  the  annual  meeting,  this  week,  of  the 
proprietors  of  the  church,  no  discontent,  as  I  learn,  was  ex- 
pressed ;  but  a  wish  that  I  would  take  the  salary  of  $5,000." 

The  highest  yearly  salary  that  he  ever  woidd  receive 
—  and  that  for  hardly  more  than  a  single  year — was 
13,500. 


852  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1865-1871. 

"Shall  age  be  a  disqualification  for  the  ministry  ?  ** 
The  question  constantly  beset  him.  He  recognized  the 
changed  views  of  the  pastoral  relation  from  those  held 
when  he  was  young,  but  yet  maintained  that  a  character 
ripened  with  time,  that  a  man  ought  to  be  wiser  at  sixty 
than  at  forty,  and  therefore  that  the  connection  between 
a  minister  and  his  people,  like  a  family-tie,  should  not 
be  broken  by  increase  of  years,  if  they  brought  not  in- 
crease of  weakness.  In  the  hottest  days,  when  the 
blood  circulated  freely  through  his  chilled  system,  he 
wrote  and  preached  and  visited,  and  felt  that  he  had 
time  and  strength  for  all  future  duties.  As  the  cold 
weather  came,  the  physical  prostration  would  return, 
with  the  gloom  consequent  upon  it,  —  a  gloom  that  he 
endured  in  silence  as  long  as  nature  would  permit.  Nor 
did  he  indulge  in  lengthy  delineation  of  his  feelings  in 
the  Journal.  The  entry  of  day's  doings  oftener  ends 
with  "Tired,  very  tired," — that  perhaps  Avas  all. 
Rarely  was  the  line  as  long  as  this :  "  What  does  it 
mean?  These  alternations  of  feeling  from  despair  to 
hope,  from  utter  weakness  to  natural  ability,  are  destroy- 
ing my  life."  He  grudged  the  necessary  hours  spent 
in  self-forgetfulness  and  sleep  obtained  by  sedatives  ; 
still  more  he  dreaded  the  reaction  bringing  "  horrid 
self-consciousness."  After  great  pain  endured,  the 
record  simply  runs,  "  I  have  been  very  tired  and  sad 
this  week,  feeling  that  I  must  and  that  I  ought  to  send 
in  my  resignation." 

Again  "the  letter"  was  prepared.  But,  as  long  as 
the  seasons  of  relief  and  strength  were  at  all  frequent, 
he  could  not  make  his  mind  up  either  to  Withdraw, 
or  to  ask  for  a  colleague,  or  to  "  accept  a  pension,"  as 
he  called  it.  To  one  friend  before  all  others  outside  of 
his  own  home  he  used  to  turn  for  comfort  and  counsel. 


18'o5-1871.]      A   FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH.  353 

It  was  the  wife's  sister,  the  children's  mother-aunt 
through  all  these  many  years.  Another  dear  helper 
was  the  old  college  friend :  *'  You  really  think,  then,  that 
I  can  stay  a  little  longer  ?  I  will  then."  And  when 
the  door  closed,  he  would  draw  his  chair  up  to  the 
table,  — "  Lincoln  thinks  I  can  do  something  still." 
And  in  the  parish  there  were  still  other  loved  and  loving 
listeners.  His  physician  said,  "  Do  not  decide  until 
you  are  calm."  He  still  waited  therefore,  teaching  the 
3'oung  men  in  the  School,  taking  his  turn  at  the  Theatre- 
preaching,  now  and  then  giving  one  of  the  Local  Con- 
ference sermons,  besides  attending  to  all  the  regular 
parish-duties.  The  grandchild  that  had  come  into  the 
house  helped  to  play  away  the  sadness.  As  soon  as  the 
tea-cup  was  pushed  aside,  the  little  head  would  bounce 
into  his  lap  and  the  white  hair  was  covered  with  thump- 
ing fingers,  —  the  merriest  moments  of  the  day.  Christ- 
mas (1867)  was  — 

"A  quiet  clay,  as  I  wish  it  may  always  be.  Alone;  the 
past  seeming  to  me  less  real,  —  or  less  sad?  —  as  the  pres- 
ent seems  to  me  so  near  its  close.  My  hold  on  earthly 
things  appears  to  me  very  slight.  The  past  is  a  far  way 
back,  and  the  other  life  but  a  little  way  off.  Oh  that  I 
was  prepared  for  it!" 

He  often  now  of  summei^  visited  the  White  Moun- 
tains. Jefferson,  a  little  village  lying  full  in  face  of 
Mount  Washington,  was  the  favorite  spot.  In  the 
course  of  a  long  ride  with  a  party  of  friends  in  1868,  he 
found  himself  at  Dixville  Notch.  The  boy  was  in  him 
still  on  the  strong  days  :  — 

"  Came  back  to  the  foot  of  Table  Rock,  one  of  the  loftiest 
pinnacles.  The  young  people,  John  the  guide,  and  I,  went 
up.      The  worst   ascent  and   descent  I  ever  made,  —  con- 

23 


354  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1865-1871. 

stantly  precipitous,  and  the  slight  path  composed  of  loose 
stones  and  earth.  I  could  not  use  my  canes;  could  only 
give  one  hand  to  Will,  and  scramble  up  and  down  with  the 
other ;  was  made  dizzy,  if  I  looked  back ;  fifty  minutes  going 
up,  forty  coming  down.  The  view  from  the  summit  hardly 
rewarded  the  effort." 

During  the  next  autumn,  many  were  the  hours  passed 
on  his  beloved  couch.  "  Tired  and  sleeping,  but  calm  ; 
at  home  on  couch,"  —  "miserable;  at  home,  on  couch, 
sleeping  and  thinking,"  —  "  sleeping  and  reading,  weary 
and  troubled."  There  was  a  touching  pathos  in  his 
love  for  this  sofa.  It  came,  among  other  household 
gifts,  from  his  people  some  twenty  years  before.  From 
it  his  youngest  child  had  entered  the  other  world ;  in 
his  own  life,  it  was  the  home  within  the  home,  the  spot 
of  surest  rest  and  peace  ;  round  it  his  children  had 
gathered  on  Sunday  and  Christmas  evenings  ;  and  there- 
on he  hoped  to  pass  away. 

At  this  very  time  the  Committee  on  Theatre-Preach- 
ing wanted  him  to  go  forth  among  the  cities  as  their 
missionary.  He  told  them  that  he  did  not  know  how 
to  preach,  and  each  year  w^as  less  able  to  get  hold  even 
of  the  true  theory  of  pulpit  or  public  address.  Yet  he 
consented  to  meet  the  young  men  at  the  School  once 
more. 

He  must,  he  7nust  resign :  the  conviction  was  slowly 
wrung  out  of  his  heart  after  days  and  weeks  of  suffer- 
ing. It  would  appear  an  easy  thing  to  do :  to  him  it 
was  a  terrible,  ghastly  effort  to  send  that  ''letter."  It 
was  written  and  rewritten.  At  last,  one  Sunday  in 
December,  there  came  a  sermon  on  "  Farewell."  On 
Monday  the  letter  went.  When  it  had  actually  been 
given  into  the  hands  of  the  messenger  for  delivery, 
there  was  the  stillness  of  death  in  Lis  room.     The  deed 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH.  355 

dreaded  for  years  was  done.  It  seemed  to  liim  necessary, 
right,  the  only  right  course,  — but  like  the  suicide  of  all 
his  past  endeavor,  all  his  hope.  He  had  loved  and  served 
his  people  with  his  strength  through  almost  four  and 
forty  years,  he  yearned  to  love  them  to  the  end  and  die 
in  service.  "  Receive  us  ...  to  die  and  live  with  you," 
had  been  the  text  of  the  first  sermon.  "  Be  thou  faith- 
ful unto  death  "  had  been  the  motto  on  his  favorite  seal. 
Now  it  was  all  over,  —  and  life  remained.  Here  is  the 
letter : — 

"Boston,  Dec.  21,  1868. 

"  My  Fkiends,  —  It  becomes  my  painful  duty  to  ask  to  be 
released  from  the  ministry  of  the  Arlington  Street  Church. 
I  have  slowly  and  reluctantly  come  to  this  conclusion ;  but  I 
can  no  longer  doubt  what  I  ought  to  do,  for  your  sake,  even 
more  than  my  own.  I  feel  my  inability  to  meet  the  de- 
mands of  the  present  time  too  sensibly  to  bring  the  little 
power  I  have  to  bear  upon  the  work.  You  need  an  abler 
and  younger  man  in  your  pulpit,  and  a  more  genial  friend  in 
your  homes;  such  a  one  as  I  trust  you  will  soon  find.  For 
the  many  acts  of  generosity  I  have  received  from  the  propri- 
etors in  their  corporate  capacity,  and  from  the  Prudential 
Committee  as  their  representatives,  as  well  as  for  the  num- 
berless proofs  of  kind  and  patient  regard  which  members  of 
the  congregation  have  bestowed,  I  can  only  express  in  these 
poor  terms  of  acknowledgment  my  heartfelt  thanks.  I  have 
but  one  prayer  to  offer  in  your  behalf:  may  the  Divine  bless- 
ing increase  and  perpetuate  your  congregational  j^rosperity, 
and  the  Divine  grace  fill  all  your  hearts. 

"  Shall  I  trouble  you  to  call  a  meeting  of  the  proprietors, 
as  soon  as  may  be  convenient,  to  accept  my  resignation, 
w^hicli  I  should  like  to  have  take  effect  at  the  close  of  the 
present  month  ? 

"  With  ever  faithful  regards,  yours, 

"Ezra  S.  Gannett. 

*'To  THE  Prudential  Committee  of  the  Proprietors 
OF  Arlington  Street  Church." 


356  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1865-1871. 

That  Christmas  was  "  a  wretched  day.  Broken  down 
in  heart  and  hope.     On  mj  couch." 

But  the  patient,  loyal  friends  again  urged  him  not  to 
leave  them,  to  take  another  absence,  —  for  a  year,  if 
need  be,  to  rest  and  travel  at  their  expense.  Letters, 
gifts,  kindnesses,  poured  in,  amazing  the  sad,  humble 
heart. 

"  The  past  month  has  been  to  me  very  strange.  It  seems 
like  a  dream.  The  expressions  of  esteem  which  I  have  re- 
ceived, so  many  and  various,  have  confounded  me.  I  can- 
not write  nor  think  with  a  clear  mind.  Only  one  thing 
seems  to  me  plain,  —  that  I  may  remain  the  minister  (or  a 
minister)  of  our  church."  —  "Dr.  Clarke  says  I  must  go 
away :  if  I  will  take  four  months'  rest,  I  may  be  sole  minis- 
ter two  or  three  years  more ;  if  I  do  not,  I  shall  certainly 
break  down  again." 

So  he  accepted  a  part  of  the  generosity  offered  him, 

—  of  course  the  church-treasurer  had  his  usual  struggle, 

—  and  went  away.  And  with  him  went  Calvin  Lin- 
coln. The  two  gray-haired  pilgrims  had  been  close 
work-fellows  for  fifty  years.  They  travelled  towards 
the  South,  visited  the  other  classmate  who  from  those 
college-days  had  ministered  at  Philadelphia,  went  on 
through  scenes  where  the  signs  of  war  still  lingered, 
visited  the  Freedmen's  Schools  in  Richmond,  stopped  at 
the  Sea  Islands  for  a  glimpse  of  the  emancipated  far- 
mers there,  and  at  last  sought  what  little  soothing 
Florida  might  give.  Then,  turning  AVestward,  they 
climbed  Lookout  Mountain,  groped  in  Mammoth  Cave, 
rested  in  St.  Louis  with  friends,  and  by  boat  came  up 
the  river,  pausing  at  the  large  towns,  until  they  reached 
St.  Paul.  By  that  time,  the  rest  and  change,  the  friendl}" 
greetings  everywhere  received,  and  the  brother's  pres- 
ence with  him,  had  begun  to  do  the  sick  man  good.     In 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER   IN  THE   CHURCH.  357 

Milwaukee  a  large  circle  of  pleasant  welcomers  awaited 
him.  The  Unitarian  society  opened  its  church-parlors, 
and  seven  of  the  city-ministers  of  other  denominations 
accepted  invitations  to  the  kind  reception. 

"  I  find  here  a  very  pretty  Unitarian  Church,  with  organ, 
Sunday-school  room,  parlor.,  kitcheyi^  &c.,  after  the  latest 
pattern  of  ecclesiastical  arrangements ;  and,  what  is  better,  a 
degree,  or  at  least  a  manifestation,  of  cordiality  among  the 
ministers  that  amazes  me.  The  Trinitarian  Congregational, 
the  Presbyterian,  the  Baptist,  and  the  Methodist  ministers 
have  a  Monday  morning  meeting  in  one  of  their  vestries,  in 
which  they  give  a  little  account  of  their  preaching  on  the 
previous  Sunday,  and  spend  an  hour  or  more  in  pleasant 
talk.  To  my  surprise,  my  son  had  been  invited,  and  had 
attended  the  meeting;  and  had  been  asked  to  bring  Mr. 
Lincoln  and  me.  We  went  this  morning,  were  received  with 
the  utmost  friendliness.  I  was  asked  to  open  the  meeting 
with  prayer ;  and  we,  in  our  turn,  were  called  upon  for  the 
subjects  of  our  yesterday's  sermons.  Could  such  hospitality 
to  different  beliefs  have  been  shown  in  Boston  ?  " 

Thence  home  by  Niagaras  and  Trenton,  after  a  ten 
weeks'  journey  of  five  thousand  miles. 

Hardly  a  third  of  that  time  passed  in  work  again 
before  the  Journal  says  :  "  At  home,  very  tired  ;  "  and 
soon,  "  Tired  and  troubled."  The  year  dragged  pain- 
fully by,  a  conflict  with  many  discouragements.  He 
longed  —  how  he  longed  to  do  ! 

"  How  fast  the  months  slip  away !  October  three-quar- 
ters gone!  And  life,  with  so  much  to  do,  and  so  little  ability 
to  do  it,  and,  what  is  worse,  so  little  resolution  to  summon 
that  little  ability  into  exercise.  Ought  we  not  to  be  glad 
that  God  takes  care  of  the  world  ?  " 

When  he  wrote  the  words,  he  was  toiling  in  a  new 
way  for  his  friends,  the  students.     Arrangements  had 


858  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1805-1871. 

been  made  in  the  theological  course  at  Harvard  to  ac- 
commodate the  special  class  of  young  men  for  whom  the 
Boston  School  had  been  begun,  and  the  latter  had  there- 
fore ceased.  Dr.  Gannett  favored  the  new  plan.  As 
his  sketch  in  1857  shows,  he  thought  the  work  of  the 
two  Schools  could  be  carried  on  in  one,  where  all  advan- 
tages should  be  concentrated.  But  the  change  sent  to 
Cambridge  a  large  number  of  students  with  little  means 
of  self-support.  To  and  fro  among  the  Local  Confer- 
ences he  therefore  went  this  autumn,  asking  for  aid  to 
establish  a  cheap  club-table  at  their  Hall.  Generous 
response  was  made  to  the  appeal,  and  the  table  still 
exists.  After  dining  one  day  with  the  young  men,  he 
notes  with  evident  satisfaction  the  bill  of  fare  :  ''  Excel- 
lent dinner  of  roast  beef,  potatoes,  squash,  bread  and 
butter,  and  baked  Indian  pudding,  nicely  served."  A 
well-timed  "Visitation;"  for  Indian  pudding  always 
transfigured  dinner  in  his  eyes.  It  was  his  last  service 
for  the  School  he  had  loved  so  long  and  well,  —  his  last 
prolonged  effort  of  any  kind  in  public.  The  success 
repaid  him,  but  its  cost  was  speedier  prostration  for  the 
volunteer. 

Still  a  few  weeks  longer  the  Bible  classes  and  the  two 
Sunday  services  were  cared  for ;  still  on  Saturday  night 
the  lamp  burned  on  till  far  towards  dawn,  wdiile  week 
by  week  the  sadness  in  the  little  study  grew  heavier. 
Again  it  became  a  question  of  life  or  death ;  and 
again  he  wrote  out  his  sentence,  and  sent  it  to  the 
church-committee. 

His  people  received  the  message  very  tenderly. 
There  could  be  no  more  delay.  They  accepted  the 
resignation  so  far  as  regarded  his  active  duties  and 
responsihilities,  but  voted,  —  "That  Dr.  Gannett  be 
requested  to  remain  as  senior  pastor  of  the  Arlington 


1865-1871.]      A    FATHER  IN   THE   CHURCH.  359 

Street  Church,  in  order  that  the  Church  may  continue 
to  enjoy  the  benediction  of  his  presence,  and  the  mem- 
bers of  the  society,  whose  steps  he  has  so  long  and 
faithfully  guided  in  the  Christian  way,  may  have  him 
among  them  during  the  remainder  of  his  earthly  life, 
to  encourage,  comfort,  and  inspire  them."  They  voted, 
further,  that  his  full  salary  be  still  continued  ;  and  in 
an  affectionate  letter  told  him  what  he  had  been  to 
their  fathers,  themselves,  and  their  children,  in  that 
long  service  which  had  made  him  the  oldest  minister 
of  Boston,  according  to  the  period  of  pastorate  ;  and 
how  his  work  was  twined  with  that  of  Channing  in  their 
hearts,  tind  how  warmly  they  remembered  the  public 
loyalty  with  which  he  luid  upheld  the  interests  of  a 
pure  Christian  faith.  They  also  asked  him  to  prepare 
for  publication  a  volume  of'the  sermons  he  had  preached 
to  them  to  be  a  permanent  memorial  of  his  faithfulness. 
Dr.  Gannett  received  the  committee  conveying  the 
foregoing  votes  with  a  quiet  that  told  the  depths  of  his 
sorrow.    A  month  later  he  answered  them  as  follows :  — 

"Boston,  Jan.  24,  1870. 
"My  dear  Friends,  —  It  has  not  been  from  insensibility 
to  your  kindness,  nor  from  ingratitude  to  those  whom  you 
as  a  committee  represented,  that  I  have  so  long  deferred  a 
reply  to  the  communications  which  you  brought  me.  The 
votes  and  the  letter  of  the  proprietors  of  our  church  not 
only  expressed  a  warmth  of  regard  for  which  I  was  not  pre- 
pared, but  proposed  an  arrangement  so  diiFerent  from  any 
which  I  had  contemplated,  that  I  could  not  without  much 
thought  frame  an  answer  to  my  own  satisfaction.  And  now 
I  know  not  by  what  fit  expression  to  convey  ray  sense  of  the 
tenderness  and  generosity  which  have  been  shown  me.  I 
can  only  sincerely  thank  those  who  have  relieved  one  of  the 
most  painful  acts  of  ray  life  of  much  of  its  peculiar  character, 
by  converting  it  into  an  occasion  of  gratitude  and  trust. 


360  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.  [1865-1871. 

They  invite  me  to  remain  in  Boston,  and  propose  to  furnish 
me  with  ample  means  to  defray  the  expenses  of  residence  in 
the  city.  A  provision  so  liberal  as  they  would  make,  I  can- 
not accept.  Even  as  a  testimony  of  their  esteem,  in  which 
light  alone  I  can  regard  it,  it  exceeds  the  utmost  limit  of  a 
just  consent  on  my  part.  For  the  present  I  most  gratefully 
accept  one-half  of  the  amount  they  proffer ;  yet  let  me  add, 
that  I  take  so  large  a  sum  only  because  I  believe  it  is  the 
wish  of  those  by  whom  it  is  bestowed  that  my  enjoyment  of 
a  home  in  Boston  should  involve  no  pecuniary  embarrass- 
ment or  anxiety. 

"  The  proprietors  of  the  church  have  also  expressed  a 
desire  that  I  should  prepare  a  volume  of  sermons  for  the 
press.  It  is  a  request  for  which  I  cannot  but  be  grateful, 
but  with  which  I  could  not  comply  Avithout  a  change  in  my 
estimation  of  the  discourses,  on  which  they  pass  too  favorable 
a  judgment.  I  have  seldom  left  the  pulpit  without  a  feel- 
ing of  disappointment  that  I  had  made  so  little  of  so  great 
an  opportunity  ;  and  the  feeling  would,  I  think,  not  only  be 
revived  in  me,  but  be  shared  by  the  generous  friends  who 
ask  for  them,  on  a  perusal  of  the  sermons  which  must  com- 
pose such  a  volume. 

"And  now  will  you  oblige  me  by  bearing  to  those  to 
whom  I  am  so  much  indebted  the  assurance  of  my  profound 
gratitude  and  sincere  love?  To  a  more  kind  or  faithful  con- 
gregation never  did  a  minister  hold  the  pastoral  relation, 
through  many  or  few  years ;  and  for  him  that  shall  succeed 
me,  I  need  only  ask  that  he  may  enjoy  the  same  intimacy  of 
affection  and  the  same  candor  of  judgment.  So  long  as  it 
shall  be  my  privilege  to  remain  a  resident  among  you,  the 
sympathies  of  my  heart,  if  not  the  labor  of  my  hands,  will  be 
at  your  command ;  that,  whether  rejoicing  together  or  sor- 
rowing together,  we  may  abide  in  the  love  and  truth  that 
shall  make  us  one  in  Christ  Jesus. 

"Affectionately  yours,  Ezra  S.  Gannett. 

"  To  THE  Committer  op  the  Proprietors  op 
THE  Arlington  Street  Church." 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH.  361 

Already  on  the  first  Sunday  of  the  year  in  a  sermon 
about  "  The  Old  and  the  New,"  he  had  acknowledged 
the  love  of  his  people,  speaking  to  them  face  to  face. 
As  he  gave  out  the  text,  "  Old  things  are  passed  away: 
behold  all  things  are  become  new,"  those  who  listened 
knew  the  meaning  that  underlay  the  words  to  him,  and 
man}^  echoed  them  with  feeling  only  less  deep  than  his 
own.  He  told  them  how,  amid  the  ceaseless  mutation, 
within,  Avithout,  ruled  ever  by  ceaseless  law,  we  could 
trust  absolutely  the  goodness  of  the  infinite  Will,  of 
which  ''  immutable  law  is  the  shadow  falling  every- 
where, the  revelation. of  an  unseen  intelligence." 

"Faith  must  reconcile  me,  and  you,  and  all  men,  to  that 
progress  of  events  which  is  the  constant,  and  often  the 
unwelcome,  evolution  of  the  Divine  will;  faith  in  God  as 
absolute  goodness  as  well  as  supreme  power ;  faith  in  a  love 
too  tender  to  be  tyrannical,  and  too  wise  to  be  indulgent; 
faith  in  God  as  a  father,  and  as  my  Father,  the  Father  of 
every  one  and  therefore  my  Father,  —  not  mine  more  than 
others',  but  theirs  and  mine,  beyond  denial,  doubt,  or  a  whis- 
per of  unbelief.  Give  me  this  faith,  establish  it  in  my  under- 
standing, plant  it  in  ray  heart,  and  I  shall  neither  tremble 
nor  complain  ;  but  will  open  my  arms  to  embrace  and  take 
to  my  bosom  all  life's  experience,  changeful  and  strange  and 
sad  and  irreconcilable  with  my  notions  of  wisdom  and  good- 
ness though  it  seem  to  be.  Let  such  a  faith  come,  whence 
it  may,  —  from  the  depths  of  my  own  nature  demanding  and 
therefore  finding  it,  or  from  the  high  heavens  disclosing  it  in 
compassion  for  my  want,  —  let  such  a  faith  come  into  my 
weary  soul,  and  I  will  sink  into  a  rest  sweeter,  a  thousand 
times  sweeter,  than  the  repose  of  a  tired  child  in  its  mother's 
arms.  Open  upon  ray  spiritual  sense,  O  thou  vision  of  an 
infinite  love,  and  inspire  this  faith  in  hira  whom  I  call  God, 
but  who  has  a  dearer  name  for  them  to  use  who  know  Him 
as  He  may  be  known  !  " 


362  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1865-1871. 

At  the  sermon's  close  the  thought  at  his  heart  came 
forth,  and  he  spoke  of  the  change  about  to  take  place 
between  himself  and  his  people.  This  was  his  word  of 
entreaty  and  benediction  ;  — 

"If  I  may  condense  into  one  line  all  the  counsel  that  I 
am  anxious  to  press  upon  you,  dear  friends,  it  shall  be  taken 
from  the  lips  of  the  Master,  to  whom  we  unite  in  ascribing 
an  authority  that  belongs  to  no  other.  '  Have  salt  in  your- 
selves,' said  Jesus  to  his  disciples,  '  and  have  peace  one  with 
another.'  Keep  within  yourselves,  each  of  you,  that  sanctity 
of  character  which  at  once  gives  it  flavor  and  preserves  it 
from  decay.  Let  religion  be  the  vital  element  in  your  life. 
Let  Christianity  be  in  each  of  you  light,  force,  and  satisfac- 
tion. Depend  not  on  institutions,  however  highly  you  may 
value  them ;  lean  not  oA  one  another,  in  disregard  of  your 
own  strength.  Trust  not  even  to  your  minister,  as  if  he 
could  bear  your  burdens.  But  'have  salt  in  yourselves,' 
and  '  have  peace  one  with  another.'  Obedience  to  the  first 
precept  will  secure  obedience  to  the  second.  The  personal 
life,  if  it  be  what  it  ought  to  be,  will  make  the  congrega- 
tional life  what  it  should  be ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  con- 
gregational union  will  promote  personal  excellence.  It  has 
been  a  characteristic  of  this  society  ever  since  I  have  known 
it,  as  I  believe  it  was  long  before,  that  it  has  been  free  from 
discord  or  the  indulgence  among  its  members  of  any  un- 
friendly feeling.  We  have  had  our  differences,  but  have 
never  had  quarrels  or  heart-burnings.  We  differed  about 
the  removal  of  our  house  of  worship,  but  we  all  rejoiced  in 
the  completion  of  this  edifice.  We  differed  about  the  use  of 
a  Service-Book,  but  we  both  made  the  trial  and  relinquished 
it  without  strife.  We  always  have  been,  and  are  to-day,  a 
harmonious  congregation.  Our  charities  are  well  sustained 
through  a  common  interest.  Our  hearts  cherish  the  same 
desires  in  regard  to  the  welfare  of  this  society.  May  God 
bestow  the  wisdom  needful  to  make  it'^  future  history  yet 
more  memorable  than  its  past.  .  .  . 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER  IN   THE   CHURCH.  363 

"Dear  friends  of  this  religious  society!  May  God  be  with 
you  through  all  coming  years,  —  in  this  your  sanctuary,  in 
your  homes,  in  your  hearts.  Christ  be  with  you,  in  his  influ- 
ences that  enlighten  and  strengthen  and  solace  the  believer. 
The  holy  Spirit,  the  Teacher  and  the  Comforter,  that  cometh 
from  the  Father  through  the  Son,  be  with  you  in  all  the 
vicissitudes  of  experience.  May  this  church  remain  for  gen- 
erations strong  and  happy  in  its  ecclesiastical  existence. 
May  its  members  live  as  both  heirs  and  partakers  of  the  life 
everlasting." 

Letters  could  not  be  kinder  than  came  to  the  old  min- 
ister from  his  brethren,  when  they  heard  that  his  hands 
had  dropped  the  life-long  task.  They  knew,  best  of  all, 
the  pain  it  cost  him.  Letters  from  the  Fathers  even 
older  than  himself,  who  welcomed  him  into  the  waiting- 
season  ;  letters  from  the  men  in  active  middle  life,  tell- 
ing him  how  well  they  remembered  his  comings  to  the 
pulpit  to  which  they  used  to  look  up  from  their  boyish 
cricket  in  the  pew ;  letters  from  young  men.  We 
must  give  one  or  two. 

"  Cambridge,  May  18,  1870. 
"  My  dear  Dr.  Gannett,  —  I  was  very  glad  to  receive 
and  to  read  your  farewell  discourse,  —  a  farewell  not  to 
your  people,  but  to  the  active  duties  of  your  long  pastorate. 
How  many  years  have  passed  away  since  you  preached  your 
first  sermon  for  me !  And  how  many  are  the  undertakings 
which  come  up  to  my  mind,  wherein  you  and  I  have  acted 
cord 'ally  together!  Do  not  you  remember  what  we  did 
towards  founding  and  building  up  the  Unitarian  Association, 
while  many  of  our  elders  shook  their  heads  and  held  them- 
selves aloof?  Don't  you  remember  our  frequent  attempts  to 
reform  the  Boston  Association  of  Ministers,  in  all  which  good 
Dr.  Porter  snubbed  us  and  put  us  down  so  beautifully? 
Well,  the  company  is  pretty  much  all  gone,  and  they  are 
beginning  to  blow  out  the  candles ;  and  I,  for  one,  am  content 
to  follow. 


864  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT,         [1865-1871. 

"  I  have  now  been  laid  on  the  shelf  for  ten  years,  and  you 
may  like  to  know  how  it  seems  to  an  old  stager.  A  thou- 
sand times  better  than  I  expected  it  would.  Indeed,  until 
the  death  of  my  wife,  which  left  me  quite  alone  in  the  world, 
and  except  for  that  event,  I  can  certainly  say,  with  Mr. 
Quincy,  that  the  happiest  period  of  my  life  has  been  since  I 
laid  down  the  burden  of  all  public  cares.  I  welcome  you, 
therefore,  to  what  seems  to  me  to  be  a  most  natural,  appro- 
priate, and  happy  close  of  an  anxious  and  busy  life,  —  a  few 
years  of  comparative  leisure  and  rest  in  which  to  settle  up 
our  accounts  with  this  world,  and  prepare  for  the  next. 
What  we  want  is  to  be  rid  of  the  chafe  and  fret  of  responsi- 
bilities, to  which  we  feel  ourselves  becoming  more  and  more 
unequal.  There  is  no  one  in  the  whole  circle  of  my  acquaint- 
ances who  better  deserves  this  boon  than  yourself,  and  I  hope 
you  will  enjoy  it  as  much  as  I  do. 

"  My  locomotive  powers,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  continue  to 
fail  me  little  by  little ;  otherwise  I  should  have  called  upon 
you  before  this,  in  order  to  testify  in  person  the  regard  and 
affection  with  which  I  am  very 

"  Sincerely  yours,  James  Walkee." 

"  Boston,  Dec.  28,  1869. 

"  My  dear  Friend,  —  We  had  a  pleasant  meeting  in  your 
parlor  yesterday,  although  we  were  all  very  sorry  that  you 
were  not  able  to  be  with  us.  I  think  this  afternoon  confer- 
ence meeting  will  give  us,  after  a  few  trials,  the  social  and 
sympathetic  intercourse  you  have  so  long  desired  to  have 
among  the  brother  ministers.  But  I  should  not  write  you 
to-day,  merely  to  give  an  account  of  tlie  meeting.  I  Lave 
something  else  to  say.  I  tried  to  say  it  to  your  daughter, 
and  she  promised  to  speak  for  me.  But  that  does  not  alto- 
gether satisfy  me.     I  must  speak  for  myself. 

"What  do  you  enjoy  most  in  this  world?  If  you  could 
have  fulness  of  health  and  property,  and  an  influential  posi- 
tion, what  would  you  do  with  them  ?  You  know  what  you 
would  do.     We  know  what  you  have  done. 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER  IN   THE   CHURCH.  '^Q^ 

"  You  would  use  them  all  to  lielp  other  people.  You  en- 
joy helping  people  who  need  you.  That  is  your  life.  That 
gives  you  happiness. 

"  Well,  did  you  ever  think  that  for  you  to  have  that 
happiness,  there  must  have  been  somebody  willing  to  receive 
your  help?  You  have  helped  people  by  giving,  and  you 
liave  enjoyed  it.  Can  you  also  help  people  by  receiving, 
and  enjoy  that?  That  is  the  question.  I  have  a  friend 
who  is  always  doing  something  for  me,  and  will  not  let  me 
do  any  thing  for  him,  except  by  violence.  I  cannot  call  him 
selfish.     He  is  not.     But  what  is  he? 

"  I  was  hasty  in  saying  that  the  question  was  :  '  Can  you 
be  generous  in  receiving  as  well  as  in  giving  ? '  That  is  not 
all.  Can  you  have  faith  that,  in  spending  the  last  years  of 
your  life  in  giving  your  people  your  benediction,  you  are 
truly  helping  and  blessing  them  ?  Is  the  benediction  in  your 
service  the  least  of  all  ?  It  seems  to  me  the  best  of  all.  I 
delight  in  that  tradition  of  the  apostle  John,  that,  when  he 
was  old,  he  used  to  speak  to  the  people  with  trembling  lips ; 
and  his  sole  sermon  was,  *  Little  children,  love  one  another.' 
You  have  preached  us  a  grand  sermon  in  your  life  (I  use 
great  boldness),  now  give  us  your  benediction,  best  of  all.  — 
Pardon  whatever  is  amiss  in  this  note.  1  have  not  written 
a  word  I  meant  to  when  I  began.  It  must  be  some  other 
that  has  written  to  you.  I  should  never  dare  to  write  in 
this  way,  though  I  am  truly  and  affectionately  yours, 

"G.  L.  Chaney." 

The  answer  was  not  sent  till  long  after  its  date.  "  I 
have  been  thinking  earnestly  about  my  duty,"  reads  a 
line  of  explanation  on  the  back  of  the  rough  draught 
from  which  we  copy  :  — 

"  BoYLSTON  Place,  Sunday  evening,  Jan.  9,  1870. 
"My  dear    Chaney,  —  I  have  not  answered  your  most 
kind  note,  because  I  wished  to  do  it  both  deliberately  and 
quietly.     Yet  it  is  not  with  an  unmoved  heart  that  I  can 


866  EZBA   STILES   GANNETT.         [1865-1871. 

reply  to  the  terms  of  personal  regard  which  will  make  that 
note  one  of  my  treasures.  I  believe  I  long  for  the  good 
opinion  of  my  fellow-men  more  than  I  ought,  and  to  know 
that  one  whom  I  hold  in  fond  esteem  is  my  friend  fills  me 
with  delight.  That  a  young  man  should  have  any  love  for 
me  seems  just  incredible;  and  yet  the  faith  in  your  sincerity 
which  I  can  never  lose  impels  me  to  trust  in  your  affection, 
and  thankfully  to  accept  it. 

"  You  allude  to  the  arrangement  which  my  people,  if  I 
may  still  call  them  mine,  have  made  for  my  future  wants. 
The  convictions  of  years  forbid  me  to  accede  to  an  arrange- 
ment which  has  no  limit  in  its  generosity.  So  much  of  what 
they  offer  as  will  enable  me  to  live  among  them  without  an 
anxious  economy,  I  shall  gratefully  take;  but  I  must  not  lay 
on  their  good-will,  sincere  as  I  believe  it  to  be,  any  heavier 
burthen.  I  do  not  mean  to  prescribe  a  rule  for  other  minis- 
ters. With  larger  expenses  and  with  active  duties,  they  are 
not  only  justified,  but  bound  to  take  a  salary  which  I  neither 
am  bound  nor,  as  I  think,  should  be  justified  in  receiving. 

"And  now,  let  me  hope,  that,  though  we  may  not  often 

see  each  other,  our  friendship  will  never  be  less  cordial  than 

in  the  past  days  when  it  has  been  to  me  so  pleasant.     You 

have  made  yourself  very  dear  to  us  all,  as  we  have  looked 

with  admiration  on  your  ministry,  and  have  been  admitted 

to  closer  acquaintance  with  a  character  every  year  growing 

richer  in  its  acquisitions  and  freer  in  its  sympathies ;  but  no 

one  can  rejoice  more  truly  than  I  in  subscribing  myself  both 

"  Gratefully  and  affectionately  yours, 

"  E.  S.  Gannett. 
"  Rev.  G.  L.  Chaney." 

In  the  Ministers'  Association,  he  resigned  his  Mode- 
rator's place  with  thanksgiving  words :  "  It  is  delightful 
to  think  that  for  forty-five  years  I  have  enjoyed  a  con- 
fidence irrespective  of  age,  on  whichever  side  of  the 
line  between  the  old  and  young  I  have  stood."  This 
time  the  request  came  back  signed  separately  by  each 


1865-1871.]     A   FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH.  367 

brother  that  he  would  stay  and  keep  his  wonted  seat 
among  them.  But  now  he  held  the  purpose  strong, 
confessing  to  them  that  in  the  past  he  had  often  occu- 
pied that  seat "  when  so  oppressed  with  a  sense  of  un- 
worthiness  to  preside  among  men  who  knew  so  much 
more,  and  were  so  much  more,  that  the  duty,  simple  as  it 
was,  became  painful."  —  ''How  many  would  thank  God, 
could  they  have  your  life  to  look  back  on ! "  was  the 
thought,  phrased  in  one  form  and  another,  that  kept 
reaching  him.  On  that  sense  of  ill-desert,  so  simple 
and  sincere,  it  fell  as  constant  surprise  that  hardly  even 
carried  cheer.  To  all  such  notes  the  most  grateful, 
humblest  answers  were  returned. 

At  first  he  was  very  sick,  —  too  sick  at  times  to  see  any 
one  ;  and  through  the  whole  next  year  he  needed  all  the 
comfort  that  friends  and  daughter  and  home  could  give 
him.  What  they  could  give  was  very  little  in  propor- 
tion to  what  they  offered;  for  no  rest,  no  kindness, 
could  possibly  uplift  at  once  the  feeling  of  disgrace  that 
overcame  him.  He  yearned  to  work,  to  preach,  to  help 
his  church  in  some  way,  to  do  any  thing  to  get  the 
sense  of  use  and  self-respect.  He  could  hardly  bear  to 
touch  any  portion  of  the  salary  he  had  not  earned.  He 
begged  permission  to  hold  the  Fast  Day  service  Avhich 
the  people  were  now  going  to  omit  for  the  first  time. 
Might  he  give  the  benediction?  Might  he  administer 
the  Communion,  or  call  as  pastor  in  the  homes  ?  were 
questions  that  sorely  troubled  him.  The  forebodings 
were  all  fulfilled.  It  hurt  him  to  see  little  things  left 
undone,  or  changes  quickly  instituted  which  did  not 
quite  approve  themselves  to  his  reverence  so  careful 
of  old  ways.  The  sentences  along  the  Journal-pages 
are  very  touching  to  one  Avho  remembers  how  they  were 
stereotyped  in  the  sad  look  on  his  face  as  the  spring- 
months  went  by :  — 


368  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.        [1865-1871. 

March  13, 1870.  "Evening,  doing  nothing  but  grieving." 

April  11.  "My  strength  has  left  me  surprisingly;  am  less 
excitable,  but  much  more  weak  than  I  was." 

April  27.  "  Called  on  Mr.  Hunuewell  to  say  I  was  ready 
to  tender  any  assistance  he  might  desire  about  the  pulpit 
next  Sunday  or  at  any  time,  if  Dr.  Ellis  needed  it." 

May  4.  "  My  sixty-ninth  birthday.  I  cannot  write  about 
it.  The  last  six  months  have  changed  my  relation  to  all  the 
world." 

May  14.  To  Rev.  Henry  W.  Foote.  — .  .  .  "It  has  been 
a  dark  and  weary  season  with  me  this  last  winter,  but  I  hope 
for  calmer  and  brighter  days.  That  I  needed  this  discipline 
which  I  have  been  undergoing  is  plain  to  me,  and  I  am  try- 
ing to  thank  God  for  it.  Better  habits  of  life  would  have 
saved  me  from  this  disappointment ;  but  now  repentance 
for  my  errors,  and  submission  to  the  perfect  Will  that  over- 
rules all  things,  are  the  privileges  on  which  I  may  seize. 
Of  your  friendship  I  can  never  be  forgetful. 

"  Sincerely  and  faithfully  yours,        Ezra  S.  Gannett." 

May  20.  To  another  Friend.  —  "  The  change  from  regular 
professional  employment  to  a  release  from  all  engagement  is 
not  pleasant,  and  Sunday  is  a  strange  day.  Our  pulpit  has 
been  admirably  supplied  by  Dr.  Ellis." 

By  the  end  of  June  he  ventured  to  invite  to  his  house 
his  old  classmates.  It  was  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of 
their  graduation.  Of  twenty-two  still  living,  twelve 
were  present  at  the  gathering. 

The  summer,  in  a  measure,  brought  revival.  He 
again  found  his  way  to  his  old  haunts  at  the  Mountains, 
and  to  a  new  place,  a  hill-top  farm  at  Whitefield,  where 
the  sadness  perceptibly  yielded  to  the  quiet  and  beauty. 
One  Sunday  he  preached  for  the  Methodist  minister :  — 

"  He  having  asked  me  to,  though  I  told  him  I  was  a  Uni- 
tarian, I  unwisely  consented.  ...  I  certainly  am  losing  what- 


1835-1871.]      A   FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH.  369 

ever  power  1  once  had  of  clear  and  consecutive  thought  or 
of  appropriate  language.  I  will  extemporize,  if  I  may,  once 
more ;  and,  if  I  fail,  let  it  close  my  preaching.  .  .  After  dinner 
sat  behind  a  rock  in  the  pasture,  and  read.  Such  perfect 
Rtillness  it  seemed  to  me  I  never  knew.  A  holy  Sunday 
afternoon  to  be  remembered." 

In  the  autumn  any  little  fatigue  or  excitement  brought 
back  the  dreaded  hours.  But  he  had  at  last  half-learned 
the  two  lessons,  —  to  deliberately  rest,  and  to  trace  dark 
hours  of  the  spirit  to  causes  physical ;  so  that  all  went 
more  easily.  It  had  been  ver}^  pitiful  before  to  see  how 
the  self-reproachings  of  his  weakness  drew  lurid  color- 
ing from  the  Calvinism  he  had  learned  in  childhood. 
As  in  delirious  sickness  the  mind  sometimes  wanders 
back  to  a  language  caught  in  infancy  and  long-forgotten, 
so  with  him  the  pictures  of  wrath  and  judgment  then 
impressed  rose  up  to  torture  the  morbid  conscience. 
With  the  return  of  calm  and  strength  they  gradually 
sunk  back  to  their  buried  hiding-place. 

Parish-visits  to  the  sick  and  grieving  could  now  be 
attended  to.  How  thankfully  they  were  made — he 
could  do  that  much  !  And  a  weekly  Bible  class  came 
to  his  house.  Now  and  then,  with  the  doctor's  leave, 
he  even  preached,  and  after  the  old  way  made  the  most 
of  his  opportunity:  the  sermon  on  Thanksgiving  Day 
was  "  fifty-five  minutes"  long.  And  again  a  little  later 
Ox.Tur  these  entries  :  — 

"I  preached  in  our  church,  a  new  sermon,  fifty  minutes 
long,  occasioned  by  Mr.  Storer's  death.  .  .  .  He  was,  in  my 
eyes,  a  faultless  man,  and  the  most  true  of  friends.  ...  I  found 
no  difiiculty  in  writing  or  in  preaching.  Wrote  on  sermon  till 
0.30  in  the  morning,  but  with  little  weariness.  Still  I  see 
that,  had  I  continued  to  preach,  I  should  have  obeyed  my 
old  habit  of  night  writing,  and  am  glad  I  have  retired." 


6iO  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.        [1865-1871. 

"  Glad."  It  is  the  first  Avord  of  the  kind  with  such  a 
reference  in  the  Journal.  One  *'  Happy  New  Year " 
more  of  the  old  kind  in  the  home :  — 

Jan.  1,  1871.  "  New  Year's  celebration  by  distribution  of 
gifts.  .  .  .  The  presents  were  put  on  the  piano  and  little 
tables,  each  with  its  address  (of  to,  and  from,  whom)  and 
given  out  successively ;  so  many  that  an  hour  and  a  half 
were  consumed.  Then  we  had  tea  in  the  parlor,  and  closed 
a  pleasant  evening.  How  different  from  last  New  Year's ! 
And  how  thankful  ouglit  I  to  be ! " 

It  was  a  very  happy  day  throughout,  made  so  by  the 
thoughtfulness  of  friends ;  and  when  the  good-night 
hour  came,  he  laid  down  his  pen  with  a  glad  smile  and 
peaceful,  loving  words.  The  clouds  were  surely  break- 
ing. The  smile  and  peace  gave  promise  of  serene 
months  to  come.  "  At  evening  time  there  shall  be 
light."  « 

As  he  grew  stronger  and  friends  noticed  the  quiet 
coming  on  the  face,  invitations  to  preach  oftener  found 
their  way  to  him.  Sometimes  he  spoke  at  home,  some- 
times for  a  brother  elsewhere.  The  discourasred  com- 
ment  was  apt  to  be,  "  It  is  time  for  me  to  retire  ;  "  but 
the  next  call  was  very  sure  to  be  accepted.  His  own 
church  began  to  hear  candidates  with  reference  to  the 
choice  of  a  new  pastor,  and  the  old  pastor  offered  to 
preach  by  exchange  with  them  in  order  to  save  the  par- 
ish money.  He  took  part  in  forming  "a  new  State 
Temperance  Society  on  exclusively  moral  and  religious 
grounds.  I  suggested  two  difficulties  which  we  must 
remove  or  avoid.  1.  Not  even  to  seem  to  oppose  or 
wish  to  hinder  ])rohibition  ;  2.  Not  to  ignore  or  dis- 
credit the  old  Massachusetts  Temperance  Society." 
He  also  delivered  the  introd  uctory  lecture  of  a  course 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH.  371 

on  Christian  doctrine  as  understood  by  Unitarians.  It 
was  a  popular  summary  of  their  religious  beliefs,  of 
which  some  friends  thought  so  highly  that,  several 
months  later,  they  had  it  reprinted  from  the  steno- 
grapher's report.  The  last  time  on  his  old  theme  !  No 
wonder  he  "found  it  easy  to  speak"  over  the  hour, 
"  without  using  my  memoranda  and  without  excite- 
ment." And  he  came  home  almost  triumphant,  for  the 
church  Avas  too  crowded  in  every  part,  and  the  words 
of  welcoming  and  thanks  too  hearty,  not  to  have  a  special 
meaning.  Of  course  he  preached  the  Fast  Day  sermon 
again,  and  it  made  him  ''  sit  up  all  night  without  sleep, 
writing." 

In  April  the  "  Christian  Register "  celebrated  its 
semi-centennial  anniversary  by  a  dinner.  "  I  went  re- 
luctantly and  distrustfully,  but  found  a  welcome  from 
several  in  the  drawing-room,"  and  he  describes  the 
pleasant  time.  When  it  came  his  turn,  he  spoke  as  one 
who  could  remember  the  birth  of  the  paper  and  the 
Unitarian  zeal  of  the  early  decade  from  1820  to  1830. 
Laughter  broke  in  once  and  again  as  he  recounted  the 
tribulations  that  beset  the  infant  sheet  when  it  repre- 
sented the  religious  radicalism  of  the  day.  Something 
which  he  did  not  say  Mr.  Bush  told  after  him  :  — 

"  I  want  to  say  a  word  in  relation  to  our  friend  Dr.  Gan- 
nett's  relation  to  the  paper,  and  I  shall  tell  something  which 
1  dare  say  he  has  forgotten,  and  which  perhaps  he  will  get 
up  here  and  deny.  He  does  so  much  good  that  he  forgets 
it.  Perhaps  he  does  not  remember  how  much  he  has  done 
for  the  estabUshment  of  the  '  Register '  on  its  present  footing. 
The  paper  wliich  led  to  the  j^resent  organization,  the  '  Chris- 
tian Register  Association,'  was  drawn  up  in  his  study,  by  his 
hand.  Then  it  was  no  easy  matter,  at  the  outset,  to  get  men 
to  subscribe  for  the  stock.     At  one  of  our  meetings,  when  it 


372  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.         [186r.-1871. 

became  necessary  to  complete  the  subscription,  if  the  plan 
was  to  be  carried  out,  it  was  what  he  said  and  did  —  for  his 
words  were  enforced  by  deeds  —  that  secured  the  enterprise. 
Then,  in  the  third  place,  when  it  was  found  that  we  had  not 
organized  quite  according  to  law,  we  met  in  his  own  parlor 
(if  he  denies  it,  I  will  show  him  the  record  on  our  books),  and 
perfected  the  organization.  You  see,  therefore,  that  we  are 
indebted  to  him,  not  only  for  the  'Register'  of  the  past,  but 
for  the  '  Register '  of  the  present.  He  must  take  some  of  the 
glory,  and  he  must  take  some  of  the  shame." 

And  still  the  face  grew  brighter :  — 

May  4,  1871.  "My  seventieth  birthday!  I  feel  and 
would  acknowledge  the  great  goodness  of  God  to  me  in  the 
circumstances  of  my  life,  and  in  His  wonderful  patience; 
while  T  look  back  and  look  in  upon  my  own  wickedness  with 
bitter  regret." 

In  Anniversary  Week  the  previous  year  he  had 
hardly  shown  himself  outside  his  house.  This  year  he 
attended  a  few  meetings,  and  at  the  Communion  Service 
broke  the  bread.  Once,  twice,  more  the  Sunday  ser- 
mon brought  back  the  old  night- work,  and  the  Journal 
adds  again  :  — 

"I  am  convinced  that  I  could  not  be  writing  sermons 
every  week,  and  not  in  a  month  be  broken  down.  I  did 
right  to  resign  my  ministry,  and  God  in  His  great  goodness 
is  reconciling  all  things." 

On  June  25th  he  preached  all  day  at  home  :  — 

"In  the  afternoon  a  sermon  written  yesterday  and  last 
night  on  '  Constant  Growth  in  the  Religious  Life/  from 
2  Peter  iii.  18,  'Grow  in  Grace.'" 

They  were  the  last  words  spoken  to  his  people. 
With  but  two  or  three  clouds  upon  the  days,  the  sum- 
mer passed  most  hapx)ily.     He  had  not  been  so  happy 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER   IN  THE   CHURCH.  373 

for  years.  Again  lie  was  at  Mr.  Dodge's  on  the  White- 
field  hill-top,  and  most  of  those  whom  he  loved  best 
were  with  him  there.  He  spent  the  time  reading  and 
riding  and  working  out  of  doors,  —  holding  service 
every  Sunday,  either  for  the  Baptist  minister  in  the 
little  village,  or  in  the  Unitarian  chapel  at  Lancaster,  or 
with  the  friends  gathered  in  the  parlor  of  an  evening. 
He  had  promised  to  "  supply  "  at  Lancaster  during  the 
minister's  vacation,  whenever  no  one  else  was  at  hand 
to  fill  the  pulpit.  Nothing  was  more  real  enjoyment  to 
him  than  a  chance  with  a  country  audience,  to  whom 
he  could  talk  with  voice  and  face  and  hands  for  a  loner 
hour,  freshening  the  sermon  with  yesterday's  memories 
of  their  streams  or  hills.  That  was  to  do  the  chosen 
work  in  a  chosen  place.  As  at  Rockport  in  younger 
days,  so  here  "clearing  up  "  was  the  other  labor  of  love. 
The  words  read  very  naturally :  — 

"  At  work  round  the  house  and  barn,  removing  stones 
and  lumber.  And  in  the  house  reading  '  McDonald  on 
Miracles.'  "  "  On  the  chips."  "  Removing  and  piling 
boards,"  "  His  very  recreations  took  the  form  of  useful 
activities,"  wrote  one  who  spent  part  of  that  season 
with  him  :  — 

"  He  was  continually  occupied  in  manual  labors  for  the 
improvement  of  the  place,  and  worked  so  constantly  at  this 
humble  and  aelf-iraposed  task  that  the  door-yard  gradually 
looked  as  renovated  as  a  meadow  when  the  fresh  grass  of 
spring  takes  the  place  of  the  waste  that  winter  leaves.  At 
favorable  points  for  the  best  views  of  the  mountains,  he  had 
benches  built  for  the  accommodation  of  his  fellow-boarders. 
I  cannot  say  how  many  times  he  gave  up  his  own  room  to 
some  new-comer  against  the  strong  remonstrances  of  all  his 
fi*iends.  His  ruling  desire  was  to  make  everybody  in  the 
house  happy  and  comfortable." 


374  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [18G5-1871. 

And  another,  till  then  a  stranger,  adds :  — 

"  The  entire  household  at  Dodge's  loved  and  reverenced 
him  as  a  father.  His  cheerfulness  was  the  life  of  the  com- 
pany, and  we  know  that  they  will  always  feel  a  special 
sanctification  hlended  with  their  recollections  of  those  few 
summer  weeks  which  were  to  be  the  last  of  the  good  Dr. 
Gannett  upon  this  earth." 

Twice  he  was  summoned  home  to  Boston  by  funerals 
at  which  his  voice  was  longed  for.  As  always,  to  this 
call  he  went,  against  all  entreaty  of  those  who  knew 
how  much  the  double  journey,  down  and  back,  would 
tire  him.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  having  to  pass  the 
Sunday  alone  in  the  city,  he  Avent  to  a  Methodist  Church 
near  by.  It  was  the  Communion  Service.  "  I  went  to 
the  rail  and  partook,"  having  first  asked  a  young  man, 
who  told  him  he  was  free  to  do  so.  .  .  .  When  he  went 
back  to  Whitefield,  it  was  with  a  croquet-set  to  add  to 
the  good  time  of  the  guests  upon  the  hill. 

Once  more  he  stood  on  Mount  Washington,  this  time 
ascending  by  the  railroad  :  — 

"We  spent  the  night  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  He 
was  the  last  up  at  night  and  the  first  in  the  morning,  looking 
at  -the  machinery  of  the  car.  I  shall  never  forget  the  rapt 
expression  of  his  face  and  his  eager  bending  forward  as  we 
went  up  the  mountain,  nor  his  leaping  from  stone  to  stone 
up  there,  nor  his  wanting  us  all  to  dine  at  the  Tip-Top,  as 
fairer  to  the  hotel-keeper  than  to  bring  our  lunch." 

Here  are  reminiscences,  from  one  and  another,  of  the 
Sunday  evenings  in  the  parlor  :  — 

"We  had  had  the  parlor  evening  service,  —  a  service  I 
can  never  forget.  Unitarians  from  Cambridge,  Providence, 
and  New  Orleans;  Methodists  from  Vermont;  an  Orthodox 
lady  from  Rhode  Island ;  and  the  Baptist  family  under  whose 


1865-1871.]     A   FATHER  IN  THE   CHURCH  375 

roof  we  were  met,  —  formed  the  congregation.  After  the 
prayer  and  singing  and  the  reading  of  a  part  of  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount,  Dr.  Gannett  read  us  one  of  his  most  thought- 
ful and  spiritual  discourses.  The  subject  was  the  old,  old 
theme,  —  man's  knowledge  of  God.  The  central  thought  of 
the  sermon  was  the  impossibility  of  finding  God  by  the 
searching  of  the  understanding;  the  possibility  of  knowing 
Him  by  the  reverent  approaches  of  faith."  .  .  . 

"  I  could  not  help  thinking,  as  I  looked  at  his  saint-like 
face  and  listened  to  his  earnest  words,  how  appropriately 
the  remark  would  apply  to  him,  that  his  '  very  presence  was 
a  benediction.' "... 

"  The  last  Sunday  I  was  there,  he  read  one  of  Collyer's 
sermons,  and  then  bowing  his  head  prayed.  That  same 
night,  after  most  of  the  boarders  had  retired,  he  and  Dr. 
Thompson  fell  into  discussion  on  Nehemiah ;  and  Dr.  Gannett 
rapidly  turned  over  the  leaves  of  the  book,  finding  the  pas- 
sages which  confirmed  his  view  that  Nehemiah  was  a  self- 
conceited  man,  —  'I,  Nehemiah,  did  this  or  said  that,  and  even 
spoke  of  his  washing.'  He  laughed  as  he  read,  and  we  all 
were  very  merry  over  it;  but  the  next  morning  he  was  de- 
pressed, because  he  thought  he  had  done  so  wrong  in  laugh- 
ing at  the  Bible."  .  .  . 

"He  was  keenly  sensitive  to  any  want  of  earnestness 
or  spirituality  on  the  part  of  religions  teachers.  He  held 
others  up  to  the  same  strict  standard  which  he  required  of 
himself  I  remember  how  much  he  was  disturbed  when  a 
number  of  the  '  Register'  came-,  which  seemed  to  him  to  have 
too  much  secular  matter  in  its  columns.  His  idea  was  that 
a  religious  paper  should  be  exclusively  devoted  to  the  con- 
cerns of  religion,  that  it  could  not  contain  too  much  spiritual 
food,  or  give  too  much  matter  which  would  tend  directly  to 
deepen  and  strengthen  ])ersonal  piety.  Equally  sensitive 
was  his  denunciation  of  whatever  in  religious  controversies 
or  reviews  appeared  to  him  to  be  unfair  or  unjust  to  any 
side.  His  Inst  communication  to  the  'Register,'  touching  a 
review  of  Dr.  McCosh  on  the  'Boston  Theology,'  shows  how 


376  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.  [1865-1871. 

keenly  he  felt  what  he  regarded  as  the  unfairness  of  some 
references  to  '  old  school '  Unitarians."  .  .  . 

It  was  fitting  that  this  last  word  in  print  —  it  ap- 
peared in  the  paper  of  August  26  —  should  be  that  of 
a  Defender  of  the  Faith. 

July  31.  "For  the  first  time  on  this  visit  I  have  felt  as  I 
did  last  summer." 

August  15.  "Felt  miserably,  like  last  summer.  I  hope 
the  old  gloom  is  not  returning  upon  me ;  yet  the  recollection 
of  a  wasted  life  and  the  consciousness  of  spiritual  and  intel- 
lectual inability  overpower  me." 

August  20.  "  Preached  in  the  Unitarian  Church  at  Lan- 
caster. Extemporized  from  Rev.  iii.  21  ('  To  him  that  over- 
cometh  will  I  grant  to  sit  with  me  in  my  throne,  even  as  I 
overcame  and  am  set  down  with  my  Father  in  His  throne.') 
Fifty  minutes,  poorly.  Stopped  at  Sunday  school  and  talked 
with  Mr.  Clarke's  class  of  adults." 

And  he  expressed  his  willingness  to  preach  a  second 
time,  if  it  were  customary. 

"Evening.  Service  in  the  parlor.  I  read  Scriptures, 
offered  prayer,  and  read  sermon  from  2  Peter  iii.  18,  'Grow 
in  grace.'" 

So  the  last  sermon  written  for  his  people  was  the  last 
he  preached ;  and  the  last  Sunday  on  the  earth  was 
what  he  would  have  had  it,  had  he  known,  —  a  work- 
ing-day. With  thoughts  of  promised  triumph,  never 
self-applied,  and  of  earnest  speeding  forward,  always 
self-applied,  he  closed  the  life-long  services. 

The  next  day  he  wrote  to  the  old  dear  friend,  Mrs. 
Torrey :  — 

"I  shall  not  be  sorry  to  go  home,  as  I  purpose  to  do  this 
week.  The  freedom  from  social  pressure  which  one  enjoys 
here  is  the  great  attraction,  even  beyond  the  grandeur  of 
the  scenery.     Nature,  however,  has  a  wonderfully  soothing 


1835-1871.]      A   FATHER   IN   THE  CHURCH.  377 

power.  Rest,  without  torpor,  seems  to  be  the  hiw  of  Hfe  in 
this  region.  The  mountains  are  calm,  and  the  whole  scene  is 
jDcaceful.  Sunday  is,  above  all  other  days,  delightful.  The 
people  then  —  they  are  never  in  haste  —  drop  their  labor, 
and  the  stillness  would  be  oppressive,  if  it  did  not  seem  at 
once  cheerful  and  holy.  .  .  Remember  me  affectionately  to 
]\Ir.  Torrey,  and  believe  me 

"  Ever,  in  true  friendship,  yours,      Ezra  S.  Gaxxett," 

August  24.  "  Evening.  In  the  house,  reading  and  pack- 
ing." 

And  the  Journal  ends. 

The  next  day,  Friday,  he  came  home.  We  have  this 
glimpse  of  him  on  the  way  :  — 

"  As  we  entered  the  car,  the  first  person  we  saw  was  our 
beloved  friend,  occupying  the  front  seat,  and  busily  engaged 
in  reading  '  Mount  Washington  in  Winter.'  Never  shall  we 
forget  the  happy  smile  that  filled  his  face,  and  the  hearty 
earnest  shake  as  he  took  us  by  the  hand,  and  expressed  his 
pleasure  in  thus  meeting  friends  away  from  home.  Never 
have  we  known  him  to  be  more  social,  cheerful,  and  lively  in 
conversation,  than  on  this  day,  as  we  rode  along  together, 
chatting  on  various  topics." 

The  home  was  nearly  empty.  Two  little  recollec- 
tions remain  of  the  next  few  hours,  —  of  cheering 
words  spoken  by  him  to  an  old  and  lonely  worker,  and 
a  vision  by  another  of  his  own  bowed  face  covered 
with  both  hands ;  so  there  were  probably  sad  hours  in 
the  day  to  the  old  man  coming  back  from  his  summer- 
rest  to  meet  asrain  the  fact  that  he  was  a  servant  with 
no  work  to  do.  But  for  the  morrow,  at  least,  he  had 
work  to  do,  —  he  was  to  preach  at  Lynn ;  and,  Avhen 
his  son  left  him  in  the  morning,  he  was  planning  to 
take  the  late  10  o'clock  train.  The  day  passed  quietly 
in  the  house.  Perhaps  he  was  lonely,  for  he  changed 
his  purpose.     As  dusk  came  on,  with  the  Avorn  sermon- 


378  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT.         [1865-1871. 

case  and  the  canes  that  had  so  long  travelled  with  him, 
he  took  the  early  evening  train,  —  seating  himself  in 
the  back  part  of  the  rear  car,  near  the  light  that  he 
might  read  his  paper.  —  Six  miles  out  from  Boston  an 
express-train  from  behind  dashed  into  it. 

No  friend  knew  of  it,  —  no  one  recognized  the  poor 
disfigured  face  till  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day.  Then 
from  the  floor  where  they  lay  he  was  borne  home  by  a 
kindly  stranger ;  and  into  a  thousand  happy  summer- 
places  the  name  was  flashed.  He  was  but  one  of  many 
victims.  In  many  a  home  that  day  a  name  turned  all 
the  summer-light  to  darkness.  —  What  mattered  it  to 
him?  Oh,  very  little.  He  never  would  have  been 
7'cacl?/  to  go  :  on  the  eve  of  a  journey,  he  alwa3^s  used  to 
sit  up  late,  perhaps  all  night,  doing  the  last  of  the  un- 
done work.  He  never  would  have  been  ready,  —  in  his 
humility  he  always  would  have  felt  himself  an  unfaitli- 
ful  servant,  and  longed  to  give  more  service  before  he 
went.  In  that  one  possible  moment  of  sharp  agony, 
what  thoughts  mingled  with  his  pain?  As  if  we  had 
seen  his  mind,  we  know:  he  thought  of  his  children 
left  with  no  good-by,  of  his  parish  and  the  thousand 
things  not  done  for  it,  of  the  long  and  empty  life  :  — 
and  then  he  was  with  God  in  His  hereafter,  whither 
"  their  works  do  follow  them." 

Very  tender  were  the  last  words  said  over  him.  First 
in  the  home,  with  only  the  home-circle,  by  the  friend  of 
fifty  years.  Then  once  more  he  rested  in  the  church  he 
loved ;  where  round  him  gathered,  not  his  people  only, 
but  tJie  citizens  who  knew  him  well,  the  humlilest  and 
the  highest.  IMinisters  by  scores  Avere  there  of  all  de- 
nominations. And  many  aged  people :  he  had  said  the 
last  words  for  their  children  and  their  children's  chil- 


1865-1871.]      A   FATHER   IN  THE   CHURCH.  S79 

dren.  The  hymn  was  sung  that  had  kept  a  special 
meaning  in  the  home  since  he  chose  it,  years  before,  for 
the  wife's  funeral.  The  Bible  lent  its  Beatitudes,  of 
which  each  one  fell  on  the  ear  like  a  chosen  word  of 
quiet  welcome,  and  its  shining  Revelation-vision.  And 
one  told  how,  "  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  as  much  as  in  him 
was,"  their  friend  had  done  the  work  of  an  evangelist 
in  their  city  for  nearly  half  a  century,  in  words  and  acts 
of  love  ;  how  his  fidelity  was  a  proverb  and  an  axiom,  a 
first  principle  from  which  men  reasoned  when  they  dis- 
cussed the  preacher's  and  pastor's  mission ;  and  how 
good  it  had  been,  after  the  season  of  suffering,  to  see 
once  more  the  old  smile,  and  hear  the  strong  voice  per- 
suading truth,  before  the  death-touch  so  swiftly  came. 

''At  the  grave-side  a  gentle  rain  fell,  while  the  sun- 
shine glinting  through  it  seemed  to  tell  what  a  great 
light  and  gladness  were  at  the  heart  of  all  these  tears 
and  sorrow.  One  offered  a  prayer ;  and  tlien  another 
told  us  how  often  Dr.  Gannett  had  closed  his  services 
with  the  grand  hymn 

'  From  all  that  dwell  below  the  skies,' 

and  asked  us  to  join  in  singing  it.  '  And  after  they  had 
sung  a  hymn,  they  went  out.' "  The  seventy  years 
were  over. 


XI. 


AFTER-GLOW. 


The  life  was  over ;  but,  when  seventy  years  of  un- 
selfish, earnest  life  have  gone,  they  leave  a  bright  and 
pleasant  hght  behind.  On  the  next  Sunday,  in  many  a 
church,  —  and  not  in  Unitarian  churches  only,  —  the 
sermon  touched  on  the  ideal  of  character  just  passed 
from  sight.  \yhen  his  own  parishioners  had  come 
together  from  their  summer's  scattering,  Calvin  Lincoln, 
the  old  friend,  and  Dr.  Hedge,  spoke  for  them  the  love 
in  which  all  hearts  were  one.  In  Chicago,  the  four 
Unitarian  churches  joined  in  a  memorial  service.  From 
St.  Louis  came  the  sermon  of  a  father  in  the  ministry, 
who  himself  looked  up  as  a  son  to  this  older  father. 
From  little  country-places,  from  the  pulpit  of  city-mis- 
sions, from  church-conferences,  from  various  Benevolent 
Societies,  came  grateful  messages  and  resolutions  allud- 
ing to  seasons  when  he  had  given  fellowship  and  help. 
For  a  few  weeks,  wherever  in  New  England  Unitarians 
greeted  each  other,  anecdotes  of  Dr.  Gannett  were  apt 
to  mingle  in  their  talk ;  and  in  their  respective  news- 


AFTER-GLOW.  381 

papers  men  of  other  faiths  were  glad  to  express  their 
hearty  reverence  for  his  life. 

Some  of  these  memorials  are  here  preserved,  wntten 
chiefly  by  brother-ministers  who  knew  the  man  they 
wrote  of  long  and  well.  Their  voices  echo  each  other  in 
confirmation  of  the  story  that  has  been  told,  and  make 
our  book  the  joint  tribute  of  a  band  of  friends.  Tireless 
activity  in  duty  is  the  great  characteristic  on  which 
all  dwell,  and  with  this,  as  if  it  were  a  part  of  it,  his 
deep  humility ;  then,  the  quick  sense  of  justice  and 
the  truthfulness,  and  his  abounding  hospitality  and  self- 
forgetting  kindliness.  The  words  are  grouped  below 
somewhat  according  to  the  quality  or  the  service  that 
they  emphasize  most  strongly.  Among  them  will  be 
found  impressions  also  of  his  intellectual  power,  his 
eloquence,  his  theology,  and  his  service  to  the  denomi- 
nation that  he  so  much  loved. 

HON.  WALDO  FLINT. 

"  Fellow  Parishioners  and  Friends,  —  A  great  loss 
has  fallen  upon  us,  as  a  society  and  as  individuals,  since 
we  last  met  in  this  place.  Our  beloved  minister,  —  I 
use  the  term  which,  I  am  sure,  he  would  have  chosen, 
before  all  others,  to  designate  his  calling,  —  oar  dear 
familiar  friend,  '  with  whom  we  took  sweet  counsel  and 
walked  to  the  house  of  God  in  company,'  has  been  taken 
from  us.  His  death,  though  sudden  and  in  its  manner 
most  shocking  to  our  feelings,  came  not  too  soon  for 
him  ;  for  who  can  doubt  that,  at  any  moment,  for  bim 
*  to  die  was  gain '  ?  but  v/e  cannot  help  feeling  that  it 
w^as  too  soon  for  us.  His  health  had  so  much  improved, 
under  the  influence  of  rest  from  harassing  cares  and  toil, 
that  we  indulged  the  hope  that  he  might  again  be  able 
to  instruct  us,  at  least  occasionally,  from  the  desk  which 


382  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

he  had  so  long  and  ably  occupied  and  adorned,  and  that 
he  woiikl  often  gladden  us  by  his  presence  in  our  fami- 
lies. But  God,  in  His  all-wise  providence,  ordered  it 
otherwise ;  and  we  would  bow  in  humble  submission  to 
His  will. 

"  And  now  that  he  is  gone,  we  cannot  but  recall,  even 
more  vividly  than  when  he  was  with  us,  his  constant 
and  untiring  labors  for  our  benefit,  the  persuasive  elo- 
quence and  earnestness  with  which  he  addressed  us  from 
the  pulpit,  and  the  ever  ready  and  warm  sympathy  w^ith 
which  he  entered  into  all  our  joys,  as  well  as  all  our  sor- 
rows, in  the  more  private  sanctuaries  of  our  homes.  I 
was  a  member  of  this  parish  when  Dr.  Gannett  was 
settled,  and  I  have  known  him  intimately  for  about 
forty  years ;  and  I  can  say,  in  the  full  assurance  of  its 
truth,  that  in  the  whole  course  of  my  long  life  I  have 
never  known  a  more  unselfish  man,  —  indeed,  it  some- 
times seemed  to  me  that  he  went  beyond  the  require- 
ment of  the  law,  and  loved  his  neighbor  better  than 
himself,  — a  more  devoted  Christian  minister,  or  a  truer 
friend  than  he  ;  and  I  call  upon  all  who  hear  me,  and 
especially  on  all  who  knew  him  as  well  as  I  did,  to  bear 
witness  from  their  own  personal  knowledge  that  there 
is  no  exaggeration  in  what  I  have  just  said. 

''  We  cannot  fail  to  remember  how  humbly  he  thought 
of  himself  and  of  the  work  he  had  done  among  us  ;  how 
depressed  he  was  at  times,  because  his  apparent  success 
in  his  ministry  had  not  risen  to  the  height  of  his  aspira- 
tions;  how  often  he  lamented  —  and  this  was  not  cant: 
our  friend  was  guiltless  of  hypocrisy  in  any  of  its  forms 
—  that  he  was  doing  so  little  for  us,  while  we  thought 
all  the  time  that  he  was  doing  more  than  he  ought,  more 
than  he  had  strength  to  do,  more  than  we  had  any  right 
to  expect  of  him.      The  fact  was,  I  suppose,  that  his 


AFTER-GLOW.  o83 

standard  of  duty  was  higher  than  ours,  —  higher,  per- 
haps, than  any  one  in  the  present  state  of  society  could 
reasonably  hope  to  maintain.   .   .   . 

'^  And  so  our  friend  worked  on  and  ever,  and  literally 
wore  himself  out  in  our  service,  —  his  indomitable  will 
struggling  all  the  while  with  incurable  bodily  disease, 
and  sometimes,  by  its  determined  persistency,  seeming 
almost  to  have  gained  the  victor}^ 

''  Let  us  thank  God  that  he  was  spared  to  us  through 
so  many  years." 

REV.  CALVIN  LINCOLN. 

"  To  his  mind  there  was  habitually  present  a  most 
exalted  ideal  of  the  sacredness  of  the  pastoral  office. 
He  considered  himself,  in  the  full  meaning  of  the  term, 
the  minister  of  his  j^eople,  religiously  bound  to  perform 
for  their  benefit  every  service  to  which  his  time  and 
strength  were  equal.  ...  In  deciding  what  should  be 
the  extent  of  this  service,  he  knew  no  limit  inside  of 
their  wants  and  their  wishes.  .  .  .  He  would  brave  the 
fierceness  of  the  storm,  the  freezing  cold  of  winter  and 
the  oppressive  heat  of  summer,  and  force  himself  over 
long  distances  from  his  home,  if  by  so  doing  he  could 
speak  words  of  comfort  and  hope  in  the  dwellings  of 
the  bereaved,  or  at  the  bedside  of  the  sick  and  dying.  .  . 

"  You  can  never  forget  .  .  .  how  entirely  he  became 
one  with  you,  forgetting  for  the  time  that  he  had  any 
life  or  any  cares  of  his  own  to  engage  his  thoughts  or 
to  occupy  his  time.  .  .  .  He  became  at  once  the  per- 
sonal friend  of  every  family  in  his  society.  His  acute 
perceptions,  his  ever-flowing  sympathy  and  the  sensitive- 
ness of  his  own  nature,  enabled  him  to  understand  and 
appreciate  the  trials,  and  to  share  in  the  joys  and  hopes 
of  those  to  whom  he  ministered.     Hence  it  was  that 


384  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT, 

there  was  such  a  peculiar  delicacy  and  tenderness  in  his 
manner,  such  appi'opriateness  in  his  thoughts  and  lan- 
guage and  in  the  tones  of  his  voice,  as  gave  you  the 
assurance  of  his  perfect  sincerity  and  deep  personal 
interest  in  your  welfare,  —  that  he  entered  your  homes 
with  none  of  the  formal  utterances  of  one  who  believed 
himself  authorized  to  instruct  others,  but  that  he  came 
to  you  because  he  wished  to  encourage  and  to  help  you, 
by  bringing  before  your  minds  those  great  truths  of  the 
gospel  which  awaken  life  and  strength  and  hope  in  the 
soul  of  the  believer.  .  .  . 

"  But  in  his  own  home,  in  his  care  for  those  whom 
God  had  committed  to  his  immediate  protection,  you 
beheld  the  full  beauty  of  his  character.  His  love  for 
those  around  him  was  an  exhaustless  fountain.  He 
lived  in  them,  and  for  them.  He  was  ever  watchful 
for  their  virtue  and  their  happiness.  Faithful  to  his 
obligations  as  the  head  of  a  Christian  household,  he  was 
continually  devising  methods  to  increase  their  comforts, 
to  secure  for  them  some  new  satisfaction.  He  shared  in 
all  their  joys  and  hopes.  The  advance  of  age  had  no 
power  to  abate  the  strength  or  the  tenderness  of  his 
affections.  His  lieart  was  always  young.  He  forgot 
himself  in  his  efforts  to  make  others  happy.  In  their 
service  no  toils  were  too  severe,  no  sacrifice  of  personal 
ease  too  great.  These  services  of  love  were  not  confined 
within  his  own  family  circle.  Connections  and  rela- 
tives, near  and  remote,  shared  most  freely  his  kindest 
offices.  All  that  he  was  able  to  do  in  advancing  their 
welfare  was  as  readily  done  as  if  they  alone  had  a  claim 
on  his  time  and  labors.  .  .  . 

*'  Ho  esteemed  himself  a  debtor  to  every  human  being 
to  whom  he  had  the  power  of  doing  good.  Hence  he 
became  an  active  member  of  numerous  associations  es- 


AFTER-GLOW.  885 

tablished  in  the  interests  of  morality  and  religion.  In 
accepting  the  advantages  arising  from  united  action,  he 
never  consented  to  surrender  the  right  of  private  judg- 
ment. . ,  His  opinions  regarding  the  rectitude  and  wisdom 
of  any  proposed  measures  were  deliberately  formed, 
distinctly  avowed,  and  firmly  maintained.  .  .  .  How- 
ever ardently  he  might  desire  the  success  of  any  favorite 
measure,  he  would  never  allow  it  to  be  adopted  through 
a  wrong  impression  of  its  real  character.  His  whole 
soul  revolted  from  any  thing  like  management  and 
craft.  Whatever  he  accomplished  must  be  done  in  the 
full  liglit  of  day.  No  failure  could  disappoint  him  so 
severely  as  the  failure  to  do  ample  justice  to  the  reason- 
ing of  an  opponent.  This  love  of  justice,  this  keen  sense 
of  the  requirements  of  honorable  dealing,  were,  if  possi- 
ble, more  conspicuous  when,  in  speaking  or  writing,  he 
referred  to  the  motives  and  characters  of  those  main- 
taining views  of  religion  which  he  believed  to  be  false, 
and  of  hurtful  tendency.  He  would  always  state  with 
the  utmost  fairness  any  doctrine  the  truth  of  which 
he  wished  to  disprove  ;  and,  while  urging  all  fair  argu- 
ments to  show  its  unsoundness,  he  was  always  careful 
to  give  full  credit  to  the  purposes  and  characters  of  its 
defenders.  In  this  connection,  I  am  reminded  of  the 
remark  of  one  who  differed  very  widely  from  Dr.  Gan- 
nett, in  his  estimate  of  the  authority  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. After  listening  to  his  discourse  at  the  funeral 
of  a  deceased  brother,  Theodore  Parker  remarked,  "  I 
would  as  soon  leave  my  character  with  Dr.  Gannett  as 
with  any  man  living." 

REV.  JAMES  FREEMAN  CLARKE,  D.D. 

"  We  all  felt  a  little  better  and  happier  for  knowing  that 
Dr.  Gannett  was  living  among  us.     He  was  one  of  the 

25 


386  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

men  who  gave  character  to  the  city.  Wherever  he  was 
seen  passing  with  his  rapid  step,  jumping  along  on  his 
two  canes,  men  felt  the  presence  of  the  sense  of  duty. 
Conscience  was  incarnate  before  their  eyes.  The  moral 
sense  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  them.  Such  a 
man,  by  continuing  to  live,  does  more  for  a  city  than 
half  a  dozen  banks,  and  is  more  of  a  power  than  the 
whole  Common  Council.  .  .  . 

"  All  of  his  life  was  a  preparation  for  death.  I  think 
he  was  the  most  conscientious  man  T  ever  knew,  —  he 
was  even  too  conscientious.  His  conscience  was  often  a 
morbid  one,  or  rather  a  tyrannical  one,  and  ruled  him 
too  despotically.  He  never  seemed  to  forgive  in  himself 
what  he  willingly  forgave  in  others.  He  went  mourn- 
ing all  his  days  because  he  could  not  attain  his  own 
lofty  ideal  of  duty.  He  was  only  contented  when  he 
could  be  making  sacrifices,  renouncing  comfort,  giving 
up  something  to  some  one  else,  denjang  himself  and 
taking  up  his  cross.  That,  to  him,  was  the  chief  com- 
mand of  Christ,  and  he  lived  a  life  of  perpetual,  remorse- 
less self-denial  and  labor.  He  oug^ht  to  have  been  an 
anchorite,  —  a  hermit,  living  on  herbs,  in  a  cave,  in  order 
to  be  satisfied.  And  certainly,  when  we  think  how  our 
life  runs  to  luxury  and  self-indulgence,  it  was  a  great 
thing  to  have  among  us  one  man  who  never  indulged 
himself,  but  always  longed  to  bear  hardship  as  a  good 
soldier  of  Christ. 

"I  do  not  think  he  ever  quite  saw  that  side  of  the 
gospel  which  brings  pardon  and  peace  to  the  soul, 
and  makes  us  feel  as  safe  in  the  love  of  God  as  the 
little  child  feels  safe  sleeping  in  its  small  crib  by  the 
side  of  its  mother.  I  often  longed  that  he  should  see 
more  of  this  part  of  Christianity,  and  thought  what  im- 
mense power  he  would  have  to  shake  society,  and  pour 


AFTER-GLOW.  387 

into  it  a  new  revival  of  faith  and  love,  if  to  all  his  other 
gifts  he  could  have  added  the  full  faith  in  the  pardoning 
love  of  God.  I  do  not  mean  that  he  doubted  or  denied 
it,  but  he  never  seemed  to  me  to  realize  it.  He  could 
believe  that  God  would  pardon  the  sins  of  others,  but 
not  his  own.  This  deprived  him  of  a  portion  of  the 
power  he  otherwise  would  have  had,  and  threw  a  cer- 
tain gloom  and  severity  into  his  services,  which  made 
them  too  severe  for  young  and  sensitive  natures.  His 
young  people  sometimes  left  him  for  churches  where 
there  was  more  of  comfort  and  hope,  and  then  he  blamed 
himself  for  it,  as  he  did  for  every  trial  that  befell  him. 
But  it  was  no  fault  of  his,  he  was  made  so  :  his  con- 
science was  too  strong  for  him,  and,  as  I  said,  too 
despotic. 

"  And  yet  how  sweet  he  was  !  What  a  lovely  smile  of 
affection  played  on  his  lips,  as  he  met  you!  how  warm 
and  generous  his  greeting  !  how  glad  he  was  to  do  full 
justice  to  the  work  of  others !  how  tender  his  sympa- 
thies !  and  how  his  sense  of  justice  flamed  against  evil 
and  wrong  everywhere  !  .  .  . 

"  He  was  one  to  whom  that  often  used,  much-abused 
word,  '  eloquence,'  might  justly  be  applied.  When  he 
kindled  into  flame,  his  words  had  a  singular  power, 
which  pervaded  and  charmed  an  audience.  I  never  have 
known  a  greater  magnetism  than  they  exercised  at  such 
moments.  His  power  of  language  was  so  great,  he  was 
so  fluent  and  affluent  in  his  expression,  and  so  inspired 
by  his  passion,  that  he  swept  away  all  our  coldness,  and 
was  almost  sure  of  carrying  his  cause,  whatever  it  was, 
right  or  wrong.  .  .  .  His  sincerity  of  passion  was  very 
apt  to  make  even  a  poor  argument  triumphant.  .  .  . 

"  In  losing  Dr.  Gannett  we  have  lost,  I  fear,  the  last 
man  who  had  a  sense  of  ministerial  brotherhood.     He 


388  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

believed  with  all  his  heart  in  the  brotherhood  of  the 
clergy.  No  man  ever  stood  by  his  order  as  heartily  as 
he.  How  he  loved  the  meeting  of  ministers !  how  he 
welcomed  them  to  his  hospitable  table  !  Avhat  loyalty  he 
manifested  to  all  his  brethren !  He  never  could  think 
ill  of  a  brother  minister.  He  always  gave  to  them  '  the 
benefit  of  clergy'!  When  a  young  man  passed  from 
the  ranks  of  the  divinity  students  into  that  of  the  min- 
isters, he  felt  himself  welcomed  by  that  cordial  hand 
to  a  new  sphere.  No  matter  Avho  gave  the  formal 
'  right  hand '  at  his  ordination,  the  pressure  of  Dr.  Gan- 
nett's  was  the  real  '  right  hand  of  fellowship.'  It 
almost  seemed  as  if  he  regarded  ordination  in  the 
Catholic  sense,  as  a  sacrament  communicating  some  new 
spiritual  quality  to  him  who  received  it.  To  him  all  his 
ministerial  brethren  were  sacred  and  sanctified.  Bro- 
ther A.  might  seem  to  others  stupid,  brother  B.  a  bigot, 
brother  C.  a  self-indulgent  sluggard,  brother  D.  a  cold, 
dry  man  of  the  world.  Not  so  to  liim.  He  refused  to 
recognize  any  thing  but  good  in  them.  He  himself,  the 
very  opposite  to  them  in  all  these  things,  never  seemed 
to  have  the  sense  of  their  defects.  Or,  if  his  sharp  eye 
could  not  help  noticing  them,  he  spoke  of  them  with  a 
smile,  as  one  notices  the  trifling  blemish  on  a  great  work 
of  art.     He  was  '  The  Last  of  the  Brethren.'  " 

REV.  RUFUS  ELLIS. 

"  The  days  which  Avere  strength  and  usefulness  have 
been  many.  ...  I  say  '  days  which  were  strength,'  and 
yet  almost  so  far  as  my  remembrance  of  him  runs  back, 
it  was  strength  of  the  spirit  rather  tlian  of  the  flesh  ;  it 
was  outward  weakness  which  seemed  to  provoke  him  to 
labor,  when  the  strong  with  almost  one  consent  would 


AFTER-GLOW.  389 

have  made  excuse.  Which  of  you  has  not  heard  from 
the  silent  street  the  fall  of  the  two  staves  upon  the  side- 
walk in  the  evening-  hour,  signalling,  against  his  will, 
the  way  of  our  dear  friend  to  some  one  who  needed 
sympathy  and  counsel  ?  I  think  it  must  have  rested  him 
to  Avork,  —  at  least,  I  have  tried  to  think  so,  when  divid- 
ing vacation-time  with  him :  it  was  so  hard  to  keep  him 
away  for  a  few  much-needed  weeks  of  relaxation  from 
his  pulpit  and  his  people.  Body,  soul,  and  spirit  '  as 
much  as  in  h^m  was,'  and  that  was  not  a  little,  he  has 
done  the  work  of  an  evangelist  in  this  city  for  nearly 
half  a  centmy,  in  word  and  in  act;  and,  various  as  are 
the  duties  of  the  minister  of  the  gospel,  who  ever  said 
to  him,  '  This  ought  ye  to  have  done,  and  not  have  left 
the  other  undone'  ?  who  ever  said  to  him,  '  The  sermon 
last  Sunday  was  earnest  and  able,  but  during  the  week 
a  bereaved  parishioner  looked  for  you  in  vain '  ?  who 
ever  said,  '  We  were  glad  to  see  you  in  our  home,  but  we 
missed  in  the  discourse  from  the  pulpit  what  we  gained 
in  the  parlor '  ?  His  fidelity  was  a  proverb  and  an  ax- 
iom, a  first  principle  from  which  we  reasoned  when  we 
discussed  the  mission  and  the  prospects  of  the  preacher 
and  the  pastor  in  our  day.  And  it  was  not  the  fidelity 
of  an  official  person,  but  of  the  man  in  Christ,  who  is 
the  same  man  in  the  pulpit,  in  the  study,  in  the  street, 
in  the  social  gathering,  in  his  household,  speaking  the 
truth,  beeause  he  can  no  other.  Sometimes  he  saw,  or 
thought  that  he  saw,  interpretations  and  methods  which 
would  make  the  work  of  the  ministry  more  telling.  I 
wish  that  he  could  have  seen  them  to  be  also  scriptural 
and  true  ;  but,  failing  that,  he  accepted  the  overweight 
and  the  smaller  result,  and  hoped  and  labored  for  what 
he  saw  not,  always  intellectually  honest,  true  to  the  rea- 
son and  understanding  and  revelation  by  the  Christ  which 


390  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

God  had  given  him,  and  to  that  abundance  of  the  heart 
out  of  which  his  mouth  spake  words  as  fit  and  well 
ordered  as  they  were  burning.  And  this  life-long  work 
of  his  was  a  work  of  love.  Conscientious  service,  the 
most  eminent,  could  never  have  called  forth  such  affec- 
tionate loyalty  as  waited  upon  this  ministry,  and  made 
you  willing  —  as  myself  I  always  Avas  —  that  he  should 
call  you  brother,  because  you  knew  that  upon  his  lips  it 
was  no  word  of  custom  or  of  cant,  that  he  loved  the 
brotherhood,  sympathized  with  the  young  clergyman, 
and  was  ever  ready  to  befriend  the  less  favored.  And 
though  he  laid  upon  himself  burdens  heavy  and  griev- 
ous to  be  borne,  there  was  in  his  nature  a  great  capacit> 
for  enjoyment,  a  keen  delight  in  human  fellowship,  ven 
often  great  joy  in  the  common  conditions  and  fellow 
ships  of  life.  And  so  I  say  they  have  been  years  t' 
thank  God  for.   .  .  . 

"  We  are  here  because  for  this  world  they  are  end  - 
ed.  .  .  .  The  angel  of  death  was  one  of  the  swiftest,  and 
the  departure,  though  sudden,  was  not  unprepared  for , 
and,  for  one  who  could  not  learn  to  be  idle  and  be 
happy,  the  best  lay  on  the  other  side.  ...  In  that  last 
hour  he  was  on  his  way  to  serve,  —  the  burden  of  the 
Lord  upon  his  heart  for  a  waiting  people." 

REV.  CYRUS  A.  BARTOL,  D.D. 

"  I  think  of  the  words  applied  to  another,  — '  The 
zeal  of  the  Lord's  house  hath  eaten  him  up.'  He  gave 
the  last  mite  as  though  he  had  not  poured  gold  into  the 
treasury.  All  we  mean  by  character  in  him  was  almost 
incomparably  displayed.  But  one  virtue,  of  Piitience, 
...  is  for  him  struck  from  the  list.  He  no  longer  pain- 
fully endures,  —  he  purely  enjoys.     For  his  labor  that 


AFTER-GLOW.  391 

Sunday  he  had  rest :  what  Sunday  did  he  have  it 
before  ?  A  prophet  of  such  holy  zeal,  not  unmeet  like 
Elijah  to  go  up  in  a  chariot  of  fire,  —  a  worker  toiling 
to  threescore  and  ten,  —  a  servant  wearing  out  the  last 
thread  at  his  task,  spinning  for  the  spiritual  fabric  when 
the  fibre  of  his  frame  was  gone,  like  one  turning  the 
wheel  when  the  wool  gives  out  on  the  spindle,  —  it  was 
fit  he  should  be  dismissed  from  the  field  for  some  refresh- 
ment and  that  music  of  welcome  for  those  who  have  well 
done." 

REV.  ANDREW  P.  PEABODY,  D.D. 

"  I  have  never  known  a  man  who  seemed  to  me  to 
have  more  of  his  Divine  Master's  spirit  and  character. 
What  most  impressed  me  in  him  was,  not  the  fervor  of 
his  spirit,  though  where  have  we  seen  a  warmer  glow 
of  devotion  ?  nor  the  versatility  of  his  powers,  though 
who  has  had  a  wider  range  of  beneficent  activity  ?  nor 
his  eloquent  utterance,  though  from  whom  have  we 
heard  more  kindling  thoughts  or  more  burning  words  ?  — 
but  the  entireness  of  his  consecration  to  dut}^  God  ward, 
man  ward,  and  most  severely  and  self-deny  ingly  self  ward, 
—  his  tender,  rigid,  self-sacrificing  conscientiousness,  so 
that  the  words  applied  to  the  Saviour,  '  Lo,  I  come  to  do 
Thy  will,  O  God,'  seem  to  have  been  the  formula  of  his 
life  ;  and,  as  nearly  as  human  infirmity  will  ever  permit, 
he  might,  but  for  his  lowliness  of  heart,  have  summed 
up  the  record  of  his  threescore  years  and  ten,  '  Father, 
I  have  finished  the  work  which  Thou  gavest  me  to  do.' 
His  conscience  knew  no  rest,  made  no  truce  or  compro- 
mise, admitted  no  exception  or  excuse  ;  and  it  was  to 
him  inspiration,  genius,  power.  It  made  him  master  of 
his  own  soul  ;  it  gave  him  a  kingly  presence  among 
men,  and  the  unction  of  a  holy  priesthood  before  his 


392  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

God.  A  thorn,  sometimes,  in  the  flesh,  it  was  ever  a 
spur  to  the  heaven-seeking  spirit.  A  bondage,  often, 
outward,  it  gave  him  the  glorious  Uberty  of  the  children 
of  God." 

REV.  A.  D.  MAYO. 

"  As  I  write  this,  I  keep  glancing  up  from  my  paper 
to  a  beautiful  picture  that  hangs  upon  the  wall  close 
by.  You  all  know  it,  —  the  face  of  him  whose  life 
among  you  so  man}^  years  was  an  illuminated  com- 
mentary along  the  margin  of  your  Bibles.  We  used  to 
wonder  how  he  could  bear  all  his  own  burdens,  —  a 
frail,  overworked,  weary  man  ;  bending  under  the  Aveight 
of  everybody's  sorrow  and  sins,  haunted  by  a  sense  of 
duty  that  drove  his  body  like  a  leaf  before  the  wind. 
But  now  we  see  that  he  kept  himself  alive  for  years  by 
bearing  every  man's  yoke.  As  long  as  he  could  feel  the 
weight  of  some  poor  creature's  poverty  or  scepticism  or 
sin  or  folly  on  his  shoulders,  his  spirit  was  '  renewed 
like  the  eagle,'  and  he  went  about  your  streets  a  mes- 
senger from  Heaven.  Such  a  man  is  an  answer  to  a 
myriad  false  theories  of  human  nature." 

HON.  GEORGE   S.  HILLARD. 

"  No  servant  of  the  Lord  ever  worked  in  his  Master's 
vineyard  with  a  more  devoted  and  self-sacrificing  spirit. 
Neithei"  ill-health  nor  infirmity,  nor  the  depressing  in- 
fluence of  a  desponding  temperament,  could  abate  his 
energy  or  chill  his  zeal.  The  work  he  did  was  enough 
to  task  the  most  robust  health  and  the  highest  spirits. 
He  had  all  the  Christian  virtues,  and  especially  the 
peculiarly  Christian  virtue  of  humility.  In  no  man  of 
our  community  Avere  the  characteristics  understood  by 
the  term  'apostolic'  more  marked  than  iu  him." 


AFTER-GLOW.  393 


EDWIN  P.  WHIPPLE. 

"  Perhaps  in  this  testimony  to  Dr.  Gannett's  worth 
sufficient  emphasis  is  not  laid  on  the  peculiarity  of  his 
disinterestedness.  Fanatics  are  usuall}'-  impelled  by  en- 
thusiasm :  Dr.  Gannett  always  appeared  to  us  a  fanatic 
of  duty.  After  spending  all  his  energies  in  Christian 
work,  after  doing  all  that  God  had  given  him  strength 
to  do,  he  was  profoundly  depressed  by  his  shortcomings 
in  his  high  calling.  His  virtues  of  commission  seemed 
to  him  as  nothing  when  compared  with  his  sins  of  omis- 
sion. Though  a  strong  Unitarian,  he  had  a  good  deal 
of  that  spirit  of  self-abasement  we  notice  in  Evangelical 
saints.  His  activity  in  good  works  amazed  those  who 
knew  him,  and  his  friends  and  parishioners  were  always 
more  anxious  to  abate  than  to  stimulate  it ;  for  they  saw 
he  was  always  stretching  his  powers  of  endurance  to 
their  utmost  capacity,  and  that  he  must  at  some  time 
utterly  break  down.  The  colleague  and  successor  of 
Channing,  he  was  in  disposition  his  opposite.  Channing 
carefully  nursed  what  health  he  had :  Gannett  squan- 
dered his  prodigally.  Channing  was  tranquil  in  the 
calm  contemplation  of  his  ideas  :  Gannett  was  disquieted 
by  his  incapacity  to  do  what  he  conceived  to  be  his 
work.  Channing's  mind  was  particularly  occupied  by 
his  grand  abstraction  of  the  dignity  of  human  nature  : 
Gannett's  heart  was  stirred  by  the  spectacle  of  its  con- 
crete and  most  ignoble  specimens,  and  by  the  thought 
of  his  duty  to  give  them  a  lift  upwards.  Channing  was 
serene,  because  he  had  faith  in  ideas.  Gannett  was 
despairing,  because  he  could  not  do  all  he  wished  to 
save  and  elevate  individuals.  He  was  in  truth  one  of 
Duty's  fanatics,  the  noblest  of  all  fanaticisms.     He  was- 


394  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

SO  constituted  that  he  could  have  no  peace  in  retirement 
from  active  work ;  and  he  died  in  harness,  a  true  soldier 
of  the  Lord." 

REV.  JOSEPH  F.   LOVERING. 

"I  shall  never  forget  his  manner  and  appearance  the 
first  time  I  was  privileged  to  hear  him.  He  was  to 
deliver  a  discourse  in  the  Federal  Street  Church.  I 
was  fortunate  enough  to  secure  a  seat  in  the  gallery 
on  his  left.  I  remember,  with  the  clearest  distinctness, 
how  feeble  he  then  seemed,  nearly  fifteen  years  ago. 
Then  his  form  was  bent ;  then  he  bore  the  look  of  one 
who  held  frail  tenure  on  earth ;  then  the  white  locks 
were  a  halo  about  his  brow.  I  remember  the  calm  self- 
restraint  with  which  he  began,  the  gradual  kindling 
with  his  theme,  the  vigorous  outstretching  of  his  right 
arm,  while  his  slight  frame  quivered  with  the  passionate 
earnestness  within  ;  and  I  remember  the  sad,  sweet  face^ 
glowing  with  the  saintliness  of  his  pure  soul.  If  there 
was  one  designation,  more  than  another,  which  he 
deserved,  it  was  —  the  preacher  of  faith.  What  he  him- 
self wrote  concerning  Dr.  Channing  can  be  said  of  him : 
'  One  quality  was  common  to  his  earlier  and  his  later 
discourses,  —  intense  faith  in  what  he  was  saying,  as 
the  needful  impulse  and  rule  of  life.  .  .  .  He  preached 
from  himself,  not  from  books ;  not  even  from  the  Bible 
as  a  statute-book,  but  as  a  source  of  inspiration  that 
tvas  received  into  his  own  being  before  he  attempted 
to  communicate  it  to  others.  The  spiritual  electricity 
was  transmitted  through  himself.'  '* 

REV.    RUSSELL   LANT    CARPENTER. 

"  It  was  as  a  preacher  that  he  was  best  known  in 
England.     His  fame  had  scarcely  reached  this  country 


AFTER-GLOW.  395 

whe*n  lie  first  visited  it  in  1837,  but  he  made  an  im- 
pression which  could  not  be  forgotten.  We  had  never 
been  carried  away  by  such  a  flood  of  impassioned  ex- 
temporaneous eloquence.  On  his  second  visit  to  this 
country,  in  shattered  health,  in  1865,  his  eye  was  not 
dimmed,  nor  was  his  fire  quenched  by  the  sorrows  and 
trials  of  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century ;  but,  when 
he  preached  in  Bridport,  his  powerful  utterance  in  the 
evening  moved  us  less  than  the  gentle  breathings  of  a 
filial  and  chastened  spirit  which  pervaded  his  morning 
sermon  on  '  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart :  for  they 
shall  see  God.'  Never  shall  we  forget  his  tones  in  the 
hymn,  as  he  read  the  words  '  J/y  Father  and  niT/  God.' 

"  Those  who  only  knew  him  as  a  preacher,  however, 
had  a  very  imperfect  estimate  of  his  value.  His  illus- 
trious colleague  has  an  influence  in  every  continent 
as  a  thinker  and  a  writer;  but  in  New  England,  and 
especiallj^  in  Boston,  it  was  even  more  emphatically 
true  of  Dr.  Gannett  that  he  made  full  proof  of  his 
ministry.  There  were  some  who  said  of  Dr.  Channing 
*he  was  a  word,  not  a  deed.'  The  saying  was  unjust, 
for  his  word,  like  his  Master's,  was  with  power  ;  but  no 
one  could  dream  of  bringing  such  a  charge  against  his 
indefatigable  colleague  and  successor !  .  .  . 

*'  More  than  twenty  years  ago,  the  writer  went  to 
America,  intending  to  spend  a  year  there  in  becoming 
acquainted  with  its  people  and  enlarging  his  ministerial 
experience.  He  felt  somewhat  desolate  when  he  landed 
there  :  but  from  the  hour  when  he  reached  Dr.  Gannett's 
house  he  found  himself  at  home.  He  had  not  the 
slightest  claim  on  his  regard  save  as  the  son  and  biogra- 
pher of  one  who  was  loved  in  all  our  churches ;  but  no 
brother  could  have  shown  him  more  devoted  kindness. 
For  many  weeks,  at  intervals,  he  opened  to  him  the  en- 


396  EZRA    STILES  GANNETT. 

dearments  and  sanctities  of  his  home  and  his  heart,  besides 
facilitating,  as  no  one  else  could  have  done,  an  acquaint- 
ance with  valued  members  of  our  body  in  every  part  of 
the  United  States.  .  .  .  We  could  not  but  be  touched 
when  we  saw  how  desirous  he  was  that  we  should  make 
the  acquaintance  of  men  who  had  a  claim  on  our  regard, 
but  whose  public  course  he  strongly  condemned.  All 
his  attachments  showed  the  intensity  of  his  nature  ;  but 
he  seemed  to  us  remarkably  free  from  bigotry  or  exclu- 
siveness,  for  his  affections  united  him  to  many  from 
whom  his  opinions  separated  him.  .  .  .  We  should  not 
have  referred  to  a  personal  experience,  had  we  not  clearly 
seen  that  this  kindness  of  his  was  the  outflow  of  a  deep 
and  bountiful  nature.  What  he  was  doing  for  us  we 
found  him  perpetually  doing  for  others.  Whilst  almost 
too  grateful  for  any  benefit  rendered  him,  he  delighted 
to  spend  and  be  spent  in  the  service  of  others." 

EEV.  JOHN  H.  MORISON,  D.D. 

"Dr.  Gannett  was  not  a  man  of  intuitions,  but  was 
gifted  with  a  very  large  development  of  the  reasoning 
faculties.  He  saw  what  he  saw  at  all  with  perfect 
clearness.  His  faith  in  what  he  believed  at  all  was 
without  any  shadow  of  doubt  or  misgiving.  He  was, 
therefore,  impatient  of  religious  musings  which  have  no 
substantial  intellectual  basis  to  stand  upon.  He  felt 
himself  shut  out  from  that  whole  region  of  spiritual 
speculations  or  imaginings,  into  which  many  devout 
persons  are  led  by  their  affections,  and  where  they 
dwell  amid  visions  of  ideal  life  and  beauty  which  they 
learn  to  love  and  cling  to  as  objects  of  Christian  faith. 
There  was  no  place  for  him  beyond  what  is  distinctly 
revealed    by  reason  or  the   Gospel  of  Christ.      This 


AFTER-GLOW.  89T 

caused  bim  to  appear  to  some  people  to  be  liard  and 
bare  in  his  doctrines,  especially  in  his  views  of  what 
awaits  us  when  we  pass  beyond  this  mortal  life.  This 
peculiarity  may  have  lessened  his  power  in  dealing  with 
some  of  the  finer  sensibilities  and  affections.  But  no 
man  could  be  more  tender  in  liis  ministrations  to  the 
afflicted.  No  one  could  enter  into  their  feelings  with  a 
more  delicate  sympathy,  or  make  their  sorrows  more 
entirely  his  own.  Whatever  consolations  his  reason 
allowed  him  to  accept  as  true,  and  to  receive  into  his 
own  heart  in  his  times  of  tribulation,  he  would  pour 
into  their  hearts  with  a  gentleness  and  pathos  which 
only  those  who  have  known  him  at  such  times  could 
understand.  Wherever  he  could  find  his  stricken  and 
afflicted  parishioners,  whether  near  or  far  off,  through 
cold  or  heat,  through  storm  and  darkness,  this  seemingly 
diseased  and  almost  helpless  man  took  his  way  to  them, 
and  with  a  voice  and  countenance  full  of  the  sweetest 
sympathy  soothed  and  comforted  them. 

"  But  his  strong  forte  lay  in  his  logical  ability  united 
with  religious  fervor.  This,  with  his  sense  of  fairness 
to  others,  his  almost  superstitious  reverence  for  what  he 
regarded  as  the  truth,  and  the  perfect  clearness  of  his 
intellectual  conceptions  and  statements,  gave  him  pecu- 
liar power  as  a  controversial  theologian.  His  rapidity 
and  logical  exactness  of  thought,  his  precision  and  felic- 
ity of  expression,  united  as  they  were  with  a  glow  of 
religious  enthusiasm  increasing  in  freedom  and  fervor  as 
he  went  on  from  one  to  another  branch  of  his  subject, 
peculiarly  fitted  him  to  be  an  extemjDore  debater.  In  this 
department  of  professional  duty,  he  had  no  equal  in  his 
own  profession,  and,  as  we  once  heard  a  distinguished 
lawyer  say,  no  superior  in  the  legal  profession.  His 
greatest  success  before  the  public  was  in  the  different 


898  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT, 

courses  of  controversial  lectures  which  he  gave  on  the 
great  doctrines  of  Christianity.  They  were  given  to 
crowded  audiences,  and  listened  to  with  absorbing  interest. 
They  were  sometimes  two  or  three  hours  long.  But 
we  have  been  told  that  there  were  persons  who  allowed 
themselves  to  be  locked  into  his  church  at  the  close  of 
the  afternoon  service  that  they  might  be  sure  of  a  seat 
in  the  evening  lecture.  Many  of  the  truest  gifts  of 
eloquence  showed  themselves  at  those  times.  He 
needed  the  excitement  of  the  occasion  and  the  audi- 
ence, with  the  pressure  thus  put  upon  him,  to  bring  all 
his  faculties  into  full  and  vigorous  action. 

"  When  he  was  speaking  extempore,  there  was  a  pecu- 
liar aptness,  and  sometimes  a  remarkable  poetic  beauty, 
in  his  illustrations.  One  we  remember,  but  not  the 
words  he  used,  ten  or  twelve  years  ago,  when  speaking 
at  one  of  our  anniversary  meetings  of  the  brethren  who 
had  been  associated  with  him  in  the  early  period  of  his 
ministry.  '  We  no  longer  see  them,'  he  said,  '  but  the 
very  place  is  filled  with  the  fragrant  memories  which 
they  have  left  behind.  As  I  think  of  them,  I  seem  like 
one  walking  by  night  through  gardens  of  flowers,  where 
he  sees  nothing,  but  the  air  is  filled  with  perfumes 
which  tell  him  how  sweet  and  beautiful  they  are. 

"  He  loved  his  brethren  in  the  ministry.  There  was 
no  one  who  would  go  farther  or  submit  to  greater  dis- 
comfort in  order  to  do  the  humblest  among  them  a 
favor.  .  .  .  He  was  strenuous  in  defending  his  own  views., 
but  equally  strenuous  in  securing  a  hearing  for  those  who 
differed  from  him.  ...  If,  in  the  heat  of  a  discussion 
on  some  exciting  topic,  he  should  happen  to  use  what 
might  be  considered  a  harsh  expression,  how  quick  he 
was  to  see  and  acknowledge  the  wrong !  One  evening, 
in  talking  with  a  young  minister,  he  said  something 


AFTER-GLOW.  399 

which  it  seemed  to  him,  after  his  friend  was  gone, 
might  convey  an  unjust  imputation  against  him.  Late 
in  the  evening  as  it  was,  this  dear  good  man  went  out 
across  the  city  in  quest  of  the  young  man  whom  he  felt 
that  he  had  wronged,  and,  reaching  his  house  after 
eleven  o'clock  at  night,  begged  to  be  forgiven  for  the 
injury  that  he  had  done." 

EEV.  FREDERIC  H.  HEDGE,  D.D. 

"  Measured  intellectually,  he  was  not  one  of  those  to 
whom  we  accord  the  name  of  genius,  and  place  in  the 
highest  rank  of  minds ;  and  yet  intellectually,  in  his 
own  waj'-,  a  man  of  very  extraordinary  ability.  If  we 
class  the  minds  of  intellectual  men  in  two  categories, 
the  intuitive  and  the  executive.  Dr.  Gannett  would  rank, 
I  think  by  general  consent,  in  the  second  class.  His 
was  not  an  intuitive  mind,  not  the  sort  of  mind  that 
discovers  truth,  that  receives  it  at  first  hand ;  not  the 
sort  of  mind  we  call  original,  not  a  leader  in  new  paths, 
not  an  originator  of  new  ideas  or  new  methods ;  but 
rather  one  who  rested  in  authority,  who  followed 
tradition  without  question,  and  leaned  on  the  past ; 
intellectually  conservative,  cautious,  although  by  tem- 
perament impulsive,  daring,  who,  if  his  vision  and 
theological  convictions  had  pointed  in  that  direction, 
would  have  been  among  the  boldest  of  the  radicals. 
For  never  was  man  more  faithful  to  his  vision,  never 
one  witli  whom  conviction  and  avowal,  conviction  and 
action,  were  more  indissolubly  joined.  Not  a  man  of 
commanding  imagination  or  exuberant  fancy,  and  with- 
out the  charm  and  pla}^  of  thought  which  those  qualities 
engender,  but  one  who  possessed  in  a  supereminent 
degree  the  faculties  proper  to  his  class,  —  the  executive 


400  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT. 

class  of  minds :  a  clearness  of  perception,  a  precision 
of  understanding,  a  thoroughness  and  tenacity  of  men- 
tal grasp,  a  vigor  and  alacrity,  withal,  a  facility  of  repre- 
sentation and  a  power  of  industry  in  which  he  had  few 
superiors  among  us,  and  which  in  early  youth  secured 
for  him  the  foremost  place  in  school  and  college.  .  .  . 

"  Predominant  in  his  mental  constitution  was  the 
logical  faculty,  —  the  faculty  of  consequential  reasoning 
from  given  premises.  ...  He  was  unsurpassed  by  any 
of  his  fellow-laborers  in  the  power  of  saying  precisely 
what  he  meant,  of  setting  forth  in  clear  and  cogent 
speech  what  he  saw  and  thought ;  for  thought  and  feel- 
ing with  him  were  one  ;  he  thought  through  his  feelings, 
and  he  felt  with  his  thought.  And  this  mutual  inter- 
penetration  of  the  sentimental  and  intellective  in  him 
constituted  the  charm  and  power  of  his  discourse. 
Very  eloquent  he  was,  as  all  who  heard  him  in  the  days 
of  his  strength  will  testify,  when  engaged  upon  a  topic 
he  had  thoroughly  mastered,  or  which,  through  the 
interest  he  felt  in  it,  had  mastered  him.  And  the  secret 
of  his  eloquence  was  his  intensity.  He  surrendered  his 
soul,  his  entire  being,  to  the  theme  he  handled :  it  bore 
him  irresistibly  on,  as  a  strong,  swift  river  bears  a  float- 
ing thing  on  its  bosom  ;  and  it  bore  his  hearers  with 
him,  if  not  by  intellectual  assent  to  all  his  positions,  yet 
in  uncontrollable  sympathy  with  the  torrent  sweep  of 
his  impetuous  soul.  He  was  greatest,  I  think,  in  extem- 
pore speech.  The  exactitude  of  his  perception,  the 
perfect  precision  of  his  thought,  and  the  marvellous 
command  he  had  of  his  powers,  their  prompt  obedience 
to  his  will  at  all  times,  in  all  places,  gave  him  a  mastery 
and  success  in  that  kind  of  performance,  —  a  combina- 
tion of  fluency  and  force  which  I  have  rarely  seen 
equalled,  never  surpassed.  .  .  . 


AFTER-GLOW.  401 

"  As  a  theologian,  he  was  fixed  and  defined  by  every 
demonstration  we  had  of  his  faith.  A  thorough  and 
zealous  Unitarian,  —  a  Unitarian  not  by  lineage  or  home 
influence  or  early  bias,  but  by  election,  by  deliberate 
investigation,  b}^  independent  conviction,  —  a  Unitarian 
of  the  old  type,  with  Arian  proclivities  in  his  doctrine 
of  Christ,  and  with  Puritan  leanings  in  practical  re- 
ligion, but  on  the  question  of  Divine  Unity,  in  opposition 
to  all  Trinitarian  dogma,  fast  grounded,  immovable ;  a 
zealous  champion  of  Unitarian  views,  and  through  all 
his  professional  life  an  efficient  co-worker  in  all  institu- 
tions and  instrumentalities  aiming  to  establish  or  pro- 
mote the  Unitarian  cause.  .  .  . 

"  Friends  of  the  Arlington  Street  Society,  yours  has 
been  a  privileged  church;  enjoying  the  ministrations 
of  two  men,  of  whom,  though  differing  with  the  widest 
difference,  each  has  been  a  model  in  his  kind.  The 
intellect  of  Channing,  the  heart  of  Gannett,  have  been 
yours.  It  were  difficult  to  say  from  whose  sowing  has 
sprung  and  is  to  spring  the  richest  fruit.  The  name 
of  Channing  has  gone  out  through  all  the  earth,  and 
his  word  to  the  ends  of  the  Christian  world.  Trans- 
lated into  many  languages,  his  wholesome  and  inspiring 
thoughts  have  been  bread  and  wine  to  how  many 
thousands  who  hunsrer  and  thirst  for  the  unadulterated 
truths  of  the  Spirit.  The  mission  of  Dr.  Gannett  will 
have,  it  may  be,  a  narrower  orbit,  and  shine  with  less 
conspicuous  light ;  but  his  work  will  strike  as  deep  a 
root,  and  act,  though  unseen,  with  a  power  as  great 
on  the  life  of  the  world.  His  mission  is  liis  character 
as  developed  in  his  life:  it  is  the  influence  that  char- 
acter has  had  and  will  continue  to  have  on  all  who 
came  within  his  sphere,  and  in  and  through  them,  by  a 
law  of  moral  solidarity,  on  others  and  countless  others 

26 


402  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

who  nev^er  saw  his  face  and  will  never  hear  his  natne. 
Who  can  compute  the  radiations  of  a  righteous  soul, 
or  guess  how  far  its  action  may  reach,  or  what  latent 
germs  of  goodness  in  distant  spheres  it  may  quicken 
into  life  ?  The  great  Giver  bestows  no  gift  so  precious 
as  when  he  sends  such  a  soul  to  dwell  and  work  among 
us.  Then  he  plants  his  own  seed,  whose  lineage  never 
dies,  but  abides  in  the  world,  a  power  for  ever." 

REV.  EDWARD  EVERETT  HALE. 

"  So  soon  as  he  entered  upon  the  duties  of  his  profession 
he  was  appointed  to  be  the  colleague  of  the  celebrated 
Dr.  Channing,  the  first  preacher  of  his  time  in  America. 
He  filled  the  place  to  which  he  was  thus  assigned,  at 
once  so  delicate  and  so  honorable,  with  such  fidelity 
and  assiduity,  he  spoke  with  an  eloquence  so  hearty, 
from  convictions  so  profound,  that  he  at  once  earned  for 
himself  a  reputation  all  his  own.  He  did  not  need  to 
be  spoken  of  as  Dr.  Channing's  colleague.  He  gaA^e 
support,  energetic,  wise,  and  hearty,  to  such  measures 
as  the  friends  of  Liberal  religion  concerted  for  using 
most  effectively  their  forces.  Indeed,  of  many  of  these 
measures,  he  was  himself  the  first  deviser  as  he  was  the 
ablest  advocate.  He  shrank  from  no  hardship,  and  was 
ready  to  undertake  manfully  any  duty  which  might  be 
assigned  to  him  in  discussion  or  in  organization,  with  his 
pen  or  on  the  platform. 

*'  Nor  was  the  work  which  thus  devolved  upon  him, 
and  the  men  around  him,  any  trifle.  It  is  easy  enough 
for  the  men  and  women  of  to-day,  in  an  atmosphere 
wholly  different  from  that  of  half  a  century  ago,  to  say 
that  freedom  of  religious  inquiry  is  a  thing  of  course, 
and  to  reckon  it  as  one  of  the  postulates  in  any  calcula- 


AFTER-GLOW.  403 

tion.  But  they  ought  not  to  forget  that  the  organized 
ecclesiasticism  of  the  country  did  not  mean  to  have  it  a 
thing  of  course,  and  that,  if  it  is  universal  now,  we  owe 
the  breadth  of  our  position  to  men  who  have  fought  for 
it  and  fought  manfully.  Of  these  men  the  Unitarian 
leaders  of  that  day  were  among  the  most  efficient ;  and 
of  these  leaders  Dr.  Gannett  was  among  the  most  ener- 
getic, hearty,  and  laborious.  The  work  he  loved  best, 
and  therefore,  probably,  which  he  did  best,  was  his  work 
in  the  pulpit.  But  as  president  of  the  Unitarian  Asso- 
ciation, as  founder  or  leader  in  a  large  number  of  chari- 
table institutions,  as  editor  at  one  or  another  time  of 
different  periodicals  founded  in  the  interests  of  religious 
literature,  he  rendered  ready  and  manly  service,  which 
it  is  difficult  fully  to  estimate,  now  that  the  success  of 
such  exertions  has  completely  changed  the  field  in  which 
they  were  made  necessary.  .  .  . 

"  The  time  has  fully  come  for  some  competent  person 
to  prepare  a  comprehensive  history  of  the  several  chari- 
table organizations  founded  in  Boston  on  deliberate  sys- 
tem, by  the  men  of  Dr.  Gannett's  generation,  largely 
with  his  advice  and  assistance,  under  the  immediate 
influence  of  that  new  theology  which  taught  every  man 
to  '  honor  all  men.'  .  .  .  The  set  of  men,  ministers  and 
laymen,  who  first  gave  themselves  here  to  the  establish- 
ment of  the  ecclesiastical  methods  of  this  '  new  the- 
ology,' meant  that  its  theories  should  be  treated  under 
their  own  eyes  in  practice  ;  and,  with  diligent  study  of 
the  best  lights  in  social  science,  they  set  on  foot  a  series 
of  institutions,  to  the  endowment  of  which  they  contri- 
buted liberally,  and  to  the  management  of  which  they 
consecrated  their  lives.  Thus  they  established  a  general 
Christian  '  Ministry-at-Large,'  .  .  .  pledged  to  meet,  by 
religious  influences,  any  evil  it  should  find  at  work  in  the 


404  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT. 

town  ;  .  .  .  a  central  society  '  to  prevent  Pauperism,'  of 
which  the  function  has  been  ...  to  nip  in  the  bud,  on 
a  comprehensive  system,  the  evils  from  which  pauperism 
grows  ;  .  .  .  and  a  '  Provident  Association '  for  the  wise 
and  systematic  relief  of  the  physical  wants  of  any  person 
in  want  in  the  town.  These  three  agencies  make  a  com- 
plete system  of  internal  organization,  by  which  they 
meant,  when  Boston  was  a  town  of  forty-five  thousand 
people,  to  see  if,  in  her  increase,  they  could  meet  the 
problems  which  have  overwhelmed  the  larger  cities  of 
the  world,  in  what  is  falsely  called  their  prosperity. 

..."  If  the  Boston  of  to-day,  a  city  of  three  hundred 
thousand  people,  is  in  any  sort  free  from  the  dangers 
they  considered,  .  .  .  the  reason  is  that  the  men  of 
whom  we  speak,  deliberately,  and  with  their  eyes  open, 
studied  in  time  the  social  order  of  the  world,  and  founded 
those  central  institutions  which  from  time  to  time, 
through  half  a  century,  have  been  picking  away  at  bits 
of  the  great  iceberg,  and  have  melted  those  bits  in  the 
atmosphere  of  Christian  life  and  love.  Of  these  men, 
Dr.  Gannett  was  one  of  the  most  eager  and  active.  He 
and  his  immediate  friends  consorted  in  the  plans  we  have 
described,  and  are  to  be  credited  with  the  issue." 

REV.  HENRY  W.  BELLOWS,  D.D. 

"  His  services  to  the  Unitarian  body  were  of  the  first 
order.  .  .  He  had  inaugurated  countless  plans  of  relig- 
ious and  philanthropic  service.  Largely  endowed  with 
talents  for  the  ministry,  carefull}'  improved  by  study  and 
experience,  he  added  to  them  a  temperament  so  fervid, 
a  will  so  vigorous,  and  a  heart  so  warm,  that  his  intel- 
lectual and  moral  powers  were  exalted  to  a  pitch  of 
efficiency  and  force  that  made  him  the  necessary  leader 


AFTER-GLOW.  405 

of  his  generation  of  our  ministers,  and  of  the  denomi- 
nation to  which  he  was  so  ardently  devoted.  ...  In 
the  days  when  strenuous  controversy  raged,  he  showed 
himself  a  polemic  equipped  with  all  necessary  learn- 
ing, acumen  and  zeal,  and  able  to  urge  the  views  of 
his  theological  party  with  an  astonishing  power  and 
eloquence,  in  which  logic  and  fire  were  equally  present. 
"When  skill  in  extempore  utterance  was  rare,  he  had 
attained  an  excellence  in  it  which  has  not  been  yet  sur- 
passed. Who  can  forget  the  eager  and  patient  crowds 
that  winter  after  winter  listened  to  his  vigorous  and 
impassioned  pleas  for  the  theological  opinions  he  had 
embraced  ?  And  with  what  resolution,  constancy,  and 
labor  did  he  not  advocate  and  maintain  the  practical 
measures  called  for  by  the  wants  and  opportunities  of 
our  misunderstood,  rejected,  or  persecuted  faith  !  How 
zealous  he  was  in  regard  to  all  our  earlier  missionary 
movements !  how  important  his  contribution  to  our 
theological  tracts,  his  editorial  labors  and  his  ringing 
appeals  in  our  pubhc  assemblies !  And,  while  he  advo- 
cated the  truth  as  he  saw  it,  how  scrupulous  he  ever 
was  not  to  assail  the  adversaries  he  opposed  with 
unlawful  weapons !  How  carefully  he  kept  the  spirit 
of  Christ  and  of  charity  in  his  most  earnest  and  en- 
thusiastic partisanship  ! .  .  . 

''  And  while,  with  a  broken  frame  and  distempered 
nerves,  he  worked  with  the  force  and  effect  of  two 
able-bodied  men,  who  ever  knew  him  to  indulge  in  any 
complacency  in  his  labors  or  to  claim  any  recognition 
for  his  services?  Painfully  humble  and  fc elf-accusing, 
he  never  had  the  support  of  even  a  just  estimate  of  him- 
self and  his  self-denying  and  consecrated  life.  .  .  .  He 
was  ever  contending  with  those  appointed  to  pay  him 
the  laborer's  hire,  and  balking  by  every  device  the  re- 


406  EZRA    STILES  GANNETT. 

ceipt  of  the  salary  he  had  so  many  times  over-earned. 
Absolutely  free  from  cupidity,  a  foe  to  ease,  and  sus- 
picious ever  of  comfort,  he  only  needed  to  have  been 
born  in  an  earlier  age  and  another  communion  to  have 
become  a  Francis  of  Assisi  or  a  Peter  the  Hermit. 
Nobody  ever  dared  suspect  the  purity  of  his  motives  or 
the  sincerity  of  his  humility,  the  absolute  truthfulness  of 
his  word  or  the  genuineness  of  his  piety.  He  was  by 
universal  consent  held  among  the  saints,  concerning 
whose  worth  and  essential  goodness  all  doubts  and  fears 
and  questions  ceased  after  he  had  once  fairly  shown  him- 
self forty  years  ago." 

REV.  WILLIAM  G.  ELIOT,  D.D. 

"  He  was  one  of  the  most  saintly  men  —  there  is  no 
other  word  to  express  it  —  I  ever  knew.  With  a  natural 
temper  of  impulsive  vehemence,  with  a  nervous  sensi- 
bility of  almost  morbid  quickness,  he  had  yet  so  learned 
the  lesson  of  self-control  that  only  for  a  moment  did 
the  flashing  of  the  eye  and  the  trembling  voice  reveal 
it:  he  was  qui ckl}^  again  self-governed  and  quiet,  and 
with  a  loving  smile.  He  felt  wrong  and  injustice  keenly, 
but  bore  no  malice,  and  forgave  with  that  perfect  for- 
giveness which  forgets  the  wrong  and  shields  the  T\*rong- 
doer.  ...  I  have  known  him  in  private  conversation 
to  be  severe  in  invective  ao^ainst  whatever  he  thouc^ht 
wrong  or  base.  His  indignation  would  burst  out  in  a 
torrent  which  seemed  like  a  prophet's  wrath.  But  his 
deliberate  word  was  always  calm  and  dignified,  and  the 
remainder  of  his  own  wrath  he  knew  how  to  restrain.  .  .  . 

"  His  life  was  so  full  of  noble  deeds,  his  eloquence  was 
so  masterly,  his  wisdom  was  so  reliable,  his  capacity  of 
working  was  so  wonderfully  great,  his  readiness  to  work 


AFTER-GLOW.  407 

for  every  good  cause  was  so  inexhaustible,  that  he  contin- 
ually found  himself  at  the  head  of  every  enterprise,  and 
men  counted  upon  him  as  a  host ;  and,  whether  he  would 
or  no,  he  was  for  all  these  forty-five  years  of  service  a 
leader  and  standard-bearer  among  men  who  were  them- 
selves qualified  to  be  such,  but  who  yielded  to  him,  or 
forced  upon  him  the  precedence.  And  yet  his  humility, 
his  self-depreciation,  his  lowly  estimate  of  himself  and 
of  all  he  did,  were  so  unaffectedly  sincere  that,  when 
all  men  were  praising  and  looking  up  to  him,  and  crowds 
hung  upon  the  words  of  his  lips,  and  there  were  none 
to  answer,  he  was  oppressed  with  the  feeling  of  his 
insignificance,  and  prayed  that  God  would  forgive  his 
shortcomings  and  inefficiency.  I  doubt  if  he  ever  said, 
Vl  have  done  this  or  that ; '  but  only,  *  I  have  tried,  and 
am  sorry  that  it  was  no  better.'  He  was  not  naturally 
of  a  sanguine  or  hopeful  temper,  and  in  so  far  the  motive 
and  encouragement  to  work  were  not  so  great  to  him 
as  to  many.  He  often  thought  that  things  were  going 
very  wrong.  But  in  his  own  work  and  duties  his  con- 
scientious earnestness  took  the  place  of  every  other 
motive.  To  do  his  part  well  was  the  great  necessity 
imposed  upon  him,  and  he  worked  with  a  will.  He 
might  discourage  you,  but  he  would  work  for  you  and 
with  you,  and  command  the  success  he  did  not  dare  to 
promise.  .  .  . 

"  He  was  ten  years  or  more  my  senior,  but  the  in- 
timacy of  close  friendship  was  always  between  us  as 
between  a  teacher  and  disciple ;  for  he  was  my  pastor 
for  many  years,  and  I  always  regarded  him  as  such  and 
called  him  so  to  the  last.  ...  It  was  in  his  pulpit  that, 
in  the  summer  of  1834,  I  was  ordained  as  an  evangelist 
to  come  as  a  missionary  to  this  place  [St.  Louis].  .  .  . 
The  brave  words  of  Dr.  Gannett,  and  the  hearty  grasp 


408  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT. 

of  his  hand,  gave  me  a  God-speed  upon  the  unknown 
errand.  .  .  .  Thirty-six  years  ago,  when  I  was  a  begin- 
ner here,  and  we  were  about  to  make  an  appeal  for  help 
to  our  New  England  friends,  he  heard  that  I  was  going 
there  for  that  purpose,  and  with  his  frank  honesty  he 
wrote  me  a  long  letter.  I  have  it  yet,  and  read  it  over 
only  a  few  weeks  since.  He  advised  me  not  to  under- 
take any  such  thing :  '  You  will  only  bring  disappoint- 
ment upon  yourself  and  your  cause.  You  may  beg 
your  tongue  off,  and  little  will  come  of  it.'  That  was 
not  encouraging,  but  it  did  me  good,  for  it  showed  there 
was  no  easy  task  before  me.  I  went  on,  certainly  ex- 
pecting no  help  from  him.  But  he  no  sooner  saw  me 
than  he  entered  into  all  my  thoughts  and  plans  ;  and  to 
him,  more  than  to  all  others  put  together,  we  owed 
whatever  success  we  gained."  .  .  . 

REV.  THOMAS  J.  MUMFORD. 

"  It  is  not  often  that  any  man  wins  the  universal 
respect  and  affection  of  his  denomination  to  the  extent 
that  was  manifested  in  the  case  of  Dr.  Gannett.  All 
parties  honored  and  trusted  and  loved  him.  Whenever 
he  arose  at  our  general  assemblies,  he  was  received  with 
the  heartiest  applause.  In  vain  did  that  meek  face 
express  its  astonishment,  and  that  upraised  hand  depre- 
cate the  honor  of  which  he  felt  so  unworthy.  The  more 
he  abased  himself,  the  more  delighted  and  the  more 
determined  we  all  were  to  exalt  him. 

"  Dr.  Gannett's  passion  for  hospitality  must  be  re- 
membered by  all  who  knew  him,  for  there  was  never  a 
man  more  given  to  it.  His  brethren  in  the  ministry 
have  countless  sweet  and  tender  memories  of  one  whose 
ears  were  always  open  to  their  trials  and  successes,  and 


AFTER-GLOW.  409 

his  doors  never  closed  to  their  forms.  Sometimes  he 
had  a  poor  minister,  with  his  wife  and  children,  at  his 
house,  for  days,  if  not  for  weeks.  Anniversary  weeks, 
when  other  clergymen  often  left  the  city  to  avoid  the 
crowd  and  the  excitement,  Dr.  Gannett  seldom  had  an 
empty  bed  under  his  roof  or  a  vacant  chair  in  his  dining- 
room.  Around  that  memorable  board,  as  nowhere  else, 
might  be  seen  the  young  and  old,  the  obscure  and 
the  noted,  the  radical  and  the  conservative,  all  equal 
in  their  welcome  and  his  impartial  attentions.  He  is 
now  mourned  not  only  by  his  peers  in  station,  but  by 
plain  pastors  of  humble  flocks,  and  threadbare  mission- 
aries far  away,  who  remember,  gratefully,  that  when 
they  were  in  Boston  there  was  at  least  one  man  of  high 
rank  who  sought  them  out,  and  gave  them  a  brother's 
greeting." 

THE  BOSTON  ASSOCIATION  OF  CONGREGATIONAL 
MINISTERS. 

"Dear  Friends,  —  The  Boston  Association  of  Con- 
gregational Ministers  direct  us,  as  a  Committee  of  their 
number,  to  express  to  you  their  sj^mpathv  with  you,  and 
their  abiding  sense  of  personal  sorrow  and  loss  in  your 
dear  and  honored  father's  departure  from  earth.  For 
forty-seven  years  a  member  of  our  Association,  and  for 
many  years  our  Moderator,  there  was  no  one  so  inti- 
mately associated  with  our  best  fellowship  ;  and  the  void 
which  his  absence  leaves  among  us  can  only  be  filled  by 
our  affectionate  remembrance  of  him  and  our  gratitude 
for  all  that  he  has  been  to  us  for  two  generations. 

''We  are  proud  to  bear  in  mind  the  great  service 
which  he  has  done  in  this  community  for  truth  and 
goodness,  the  brilliant  gifts  which  he  consecrated  to 


410  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

holy  things,  tlie  eloquent  tongue  and  fervid  pen,  the 
power  with  which  he  has  fulfilled  the  highest  and 
severest  duties  of  the  Christian  ministry  which  he 
supremely  loved. 

"  But  we  are  yet  more  glad  and  grateful  for  the  en- 
couragement of  his  example.  His  Christian  life  was 
known  of  all  men,  yet  was  wholly  known  only  by  the 
God  with  whom  he  was  in  such  near  communion.  His 
fervid  temperament  labored  on  for  more  than  tliirty 
years,  disregarding  physical  infirmities  which  would 
have  crushed  a  less  indomitable  spirit,  and  made  itself 
felt  a  quickening  impulse  and  a  rebuke  to  younger  men  ; 
his  energetic  goodness  sped  on,  outstripping  their  fresher 
strength ;  his  fearless  loyalty  to  what  he  saw  to  be  the 
truth  brought  the  spirit  of  apostles  and  martyrs  into 
our  own  time  as  a  reproof  and  an  inspiration.  The  in- 
tensity of  his  religious  nature  wrought  in  him  an  en- 
thusiasm too  exciting  for  the  frail  body  to  bear  without 
yielding  to  the  strain.  It  wrought  in  him  also  a  spirit 
of  self-sacrifice,  which  never  demanded  of  others  as 
much  as  from  himself,  yet  which  held  up  before  his 
hearers  the  loftiest  ideal  of  duty ;  and  a  humility,  which 
sometimes  pained  us  who  loved  him  by  the  resolute 
refusal  to  take  the  comfort  in  his  noble  life-work  which 
was  his  right. 

"  Many  differing  voices  have  united  to  bring  their 
tribute  to  his  generous  nature  and  Cliristian  ministry, 
and  have  testified  how,  more  than  the  witness  of  his 
eloquent,  earnest  speech  for  Christ,  the  silent  power  of 
that  character  so  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  Christ  has 
told  on  this  cit}^  and  has  approved  the  Liberal  Chris- 
tianity which  he  has  so  long  adorned.  But  only  his 
brethren  and  sons  in  the  ministry  can  fully  tell  how 
warm  his  heart  was  toward  them,  how  he  greeted  the 


AFTER-GLOW.  411 

youngest  as  a  brother  and  a  peer,  how  the  light  of  his 
smile  was  their  benediction. 

*'  We  sorrow  that  we  shall  see  his  face  no  more  :  but 
we  rejoice  in  all  that  he  has  been,  and  in  all  that  he  has 
done,  and  above  all  in  the  faith  in  God  and  the  love  for 
his  Master  which  have  now  been  changed  for  him  into 
open  vision. 

"  With  affectionate  and  Christian  sympathy,  we  re- 
main your  friends, 

"Henry  W.  Foote. 

"Edward  E.  Hale. 

"Wm.  Phillips  Tilden. 


To  Mrs.  K.  G.  Wells, 
Rev.  Wm.  C.  Gannett.' 


REV.  JOHN  W.   CHADWICK. 

"E.    S.    G." 

" '  At  eve  there  shall  be  Hglit,'  the  promise  runs 
In  the  dear  volume  that  he  loved  so  well; 
Ay,  and  for  him  the  promise  was  fulfilled, 
When  rang  for  him  the  solemn  vesper-bell. 

His  was  no  day  of  sweet,  unsullied  blue. 

And  bright  warm  sunshine  on  the  grass  and  flowers; 
But  many  a  cloud  of  loss  and  grief  and  pain 

Dropped  its  deep  shadow  on  the  fleeting  hours. 

Clear  were  his  morning  hours,  and  calm  and  bright ; 

His  sun  shot  up  with  splendid  fiery  beam ; 
And  men  were  glad  and  revelled  in  its  light. 

And  leaped  to  welcome  it  from  sleep  and  dream. 

Then  came  a  cloud  and  overshadowed  him, 
And  chilled  him  with  a  presage  as  of  death ; 

And  never  did  it  quite  forsake  his  sky. 

But  sought  him  often  with  its  eager  breath. 


412  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

For  still,  though  hours  were  his  serene  and  still, 
And  radiant  hours  of  steady,  glowing  noon, 

That  cloud  of  j^ain  was  ever  near  to  touch 
With  quivering  sadness  every  brightest  boon. 

And  as  his  afternoon  drew  on  to  eve 

And  still  he  lingered  in  the  whitened  field, — 

The  reapers  were  so  few,  till  night  should  fall 
Fain  would  his  hand  the  heavy  sickle  wield,  — 

Darker  it  grew  and  darker  o'er  the  land. 
And  he  was  forced  to  lay  his  sickle  by ; 

But  did  it  brighten,  then  his  hand  was  quick 
To  seize  once  more  its  oppoi'tunity. 

So  the  day  fided,  and  the  evening  came : 
And  then  the  clouds  rose  up  and  went  away. 

And  a  great  peace  and  beauty  welcomed  in 
The  evening  star  with  her  benignant  ray. 

And  all  the  air  was  hushed  and  whispering, 
And  all  the  sky  was  purely,  softly  bright, 

And  so  the  blessed  promise  was  fulfilled: 
*At  eve,'  it  said,  *at  eve  there  shall  be  light.' 

But  that  fair  evening  did  not  end  in  night. 
With  shadows  deep  and  darkness  all  forlorn ; 

Just  at  its  brightest  he  was  snatched  away 
Into  the  golden  palaces  of  morn. 

And  surely  since  the  Master  went  that  way, 
To  welcome  there  earth's  holiest  and  best. 

He  has  not  welcomed  one  who  loved  him  more 
Than  he  who  leaned  that  eve  ujjon  his  breast." 

By  and  by  his  people  raised  wiihin  the  church  a 
memorial  of  their  love.  On  each  side  of  the  pulpit 
they   placed   a   beautifully    sculptured    tablet,   one   for 


AFTER-GLOW,  413 

Dr.  Channing,  one  for  Dr.  Gannett.  The  latter  bears 
this  record,  prepared  for  it  by  his  friend  and  parish- 
ioner, Mr.  Charles  C.  Smith:  — 

IN    MEMORY   OF 

EZRA  STILES   GANNETT, 

FORTY-SEVEN   YEARS 

MINISTER   OF    THIS    CHURCH. 

BORN   AT    CAMBRIDGE,    MAY    4,  1801. 

ORDAINED   JUNE   30,  1824. 

DIED   AUGUST   26,  1871. 

'  AN   ELOQUENT   AND   LOGICAL  PREACHER, 

A  DEVOTED   PASTOR, 

A   STEADFAST   FRIEND, 

HE    ILLUSTRATED   THE    DOCTRINES 

WHICH    HE    TAUGHT, 

BY   A    LIFE    OF    SELF-SACRIFICE 

AND   OF   CONSCIENTIOUS   FIDELITY 

IN   THE   DISCHARGE   OF   DUTY. 

AN  EARNEST    AND    INTREPID    ADVOCATE 

OF   CHRISTIAN   FAITH 

AND   CHRISTIAN    LIBERTY, 

A   VIGOROUS   AND   POLISHED    WRITER, 

A   "WISE    AND    PRUDENT    COUNSELLOR, 

HE    WAS   AN   HONORED    LEADER 

IN    THE    DENOMINATION 

TO   WHICH   HE   BELONGED. 

A  GENEROUS  AND   ENLIGHTENED   CITIZEN, 

HE    LABORED   WITH    UNTIRING   ACTIVITY 

FOR   THE   MORAL  AND   SOCIAL  ELEVATION 

OF   THE    COMMUNITY, 

AND    RENDERED    IMPORTANT    SERVICE 

IN   THE   FORMATION   AND   MANAGEMENT 

OF   MANY   ASSOCIATIONS 

DESIGNED   TO   LESSEN   THE   EVILS 

OF   POVERTY,    IGNORANCE,   AND   SIN. 

THIS   TABLET   IS   ERECTED 

BY   THE    SOCIETY   TO   WHOSE   INTERESTS 

HIS    LIFE    WAS   DEVOTED, 

IN   GRATEFUL  RECOGNITION   OF   HIS 

TALENTS   AND   VIRTUES. 


414 


EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 


At  Mount  Auburn,  a  cross  rises  near  his  grave,  in 
form  like  the  cross  which  he  asked  should  be  placed  on 
the  church-wall  above  his  pulpit.  On  the  rock-work  at 
its  base  rest  the  two  well-known  canes  ;  and,  behind, 
lies  an  open  sermon-case,  on  whose  leaves  are  inscribed 
part  of  the  text  of  his  first  and  the  text  of  his  last 
sermon  as  the  pastor  of  his  people :  — 

July  4,  1824. 

"Receive  us  ...  to  die 

and  live  with  you." 

June  25,  1871. 
"  Grow  in  grace." 


« 


THE    STUDY,"    BUMSTEAD    PLACE. 


XII. 


SERMONS. 


The  book  will  not  be  a  true  "  Life  '*  of  Dr.  Gannett, 
unless  it  include  a  few  of  his  sermons,  to  show  in  his 
own  words  on  what  subjects  he  was  wont  to  lay  the 
stress.  The  "  Journal "  that  has  been  so  often  referred 
to  in  the  previous  chapters  merely  keeps  the  thread  of 
the  days'  doings ;  those  self-revealing  letters,  too,  which 
make  so  many  memoirs  autobiographical,  Avith  him  were 
very  rare ;  and  the  absence  of  this  inner  mind  and 
deeper  heart  in  the  record  of  a  ministry  so  expressly 
loyal  to  a  special  faith  may  have  suggested  that  the 
minister  valued  "  doctrine "  more  than  all  besides. 
Such  an  impression  would  be  most  unjust.  Although 
he  believed  that  firm  intellectual  conviction  must  under- 
lie warm  religious  feeling  and  strong  religious  motive, 
although  his  own  ideas  were  cast  in  Unitarian  forms, 
and  from  beginning  to  end  he  stood  before  the  public 


416  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

as  their  ardent  champion  and  expounder,  yet  it  was  that 
faith  as  wrought  into  experience  and  embodied  in 
character,  not  as  held  by  the  mind,  that  was  the  tran- 
scendent thing  with  him.  The  "  doctrines "  that  he 
loved  so  much  were  Uttle  more  than  the  fundamentals 
of  the  spiritual  life,  tlie  few  all-embracing  ideas  under 
which  a  man  believing  in  the  Christian  revelation  con- 
ceives our  relation  to  the  Eternal  Reality  of  Being. 
Some  sermons  are  therefore  added,  that  friends  may 
find  in  them  the  missing  side,  —  it  is  the  inside  of  all, 
the  inmost  spiritual  man,  —  as  he  gave  it  Sunday  utter- 
ance. It  is  a  side  which  cannot  well  be  pictured,  save 
by  one's  own  utterance.  Dr.  Gannett  spoke  liimself 
out  in  sermons,  and  in  no  other  way.  Save  sermons  or 
essays  of  a  sermon-nature,  he  published  nothing,  and 
wrote  very  little. 

These  that  have  been  selected  contain  his  mam 
emphases,  those  oftenest  repeated  from  week  to  week 
in  the  home-pulpit,  and  from  place  to  place  as  he  went 
about  upon  exchanges.  The  themes  that  he  loved  most 
were  those  of  the  Inward  Life,  with  Faith  as  the  belief 
in  unseen  realities  for  its  beginning,  —  Faith  ripened 
into  fellowship  with  Christ  and  God  as  its  consumma- 
tion. The  "  Christian  consciousness,"  the  soul's  expe- 
rience in  the  process  of  "salvation," — experience  of 
sin,  repentance,  and  consecration  ;  of  "  regeneration," 
temptation,  struggle,  failure,  and  victory,  and  growing 
"  sanctification  ;  "  of  serenity  and  peace,  the  realizing 
even  now  of  the  heaven-promise ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  perfect  sureness  of  a  just  retribution  in  the 
hereafter, — directly  upon  these  experiences  a  very 
large  part  of  his  preaching  centred.  Next  in  number 
are  the  sermons  that  treat  of  the  aids  to  this  True 
Life  ;  above  all,  the  aid  vouchsafed  in  Christ's  revelation 


SERMONS,  417 

of  the  Fatlier's  mercy  and  our  immortality,  in  Christ's 
cross  with  its  appeal  to  the  heart,  in  Christ's  character 
with  its  perfect  example,  in  his  religion  as  the  inexhaust- 
ible source  of  the  world's  spiritual  vitality.  And  next, 
or  perhaps  not  less  in  number,  are  those  that  urge  the 
expression  of  this  inward  Life  in  outward  Righteous- 
ness and  Holiness,  —  not  "  j)ractical  sermons,"  so  called, 
but  sermons  of  religion-in-practice,  the  bond  with  God 
never  being  lost  from  sight.  "  Integrity  "  was  a  favor- 
ite word  with  him,  applied  to  man,  to  Christ,  to  God. 
Says  one  who  was  in  the  meeting-house  on  almost  every 
Sunday  of  his  preaching,  "  The  impressions  left  upon 
the  minds  of  those  who  heard  him  through  many  years 
were,  I  think,  the  necessity  of  Personal  Responsibility, 
Personal  Integrity,  Personal  Purity,  Personal  Spiritual- 
ity, as  credentials  of  fitness  for  Heavenly  Inheritances." 
For  every  sermon-length  here  printed,  one  hundred 
and  twenty-five  manuscripts  lie  in  the  drawers.  They 
number  about  seventeen  hundred  and  fifty,  —  to  say 
nothing  of  the  piles  of  lecture-abstracts  and  of  little 
sheets  containing  the  heads  of  extemporaneous  dis- 
courses. He  used  to  record  on  the  back  of  the  manu- 
scripts the  place  and  time  of  each  delivery,  so  that  the 
elect  sermons  are  easily  traced.  The  first  three  found 
below  had  several  times  been  off  with  him,  wrapped  in 
the  old  case,  on  an  exchange.  Several  of  the  others 
were  the  preparation  made  for  an  ordination-service, 
and  represent  more  deliberate  work,  or  perhaps  the 
recasting  of  two  or  three  of  the  quick  Saturday  night 
productions.  They  have  been  freely  handled  in  the 
editing ;  that  is  to  say,  while  nothing  has  been  put  in 
save,  here  and  there,  a  connective  word  or  two  neces- 
sitated by  compressions,  parts  have  been  left  out,  a 
sentence  or  paragraph  has  sometimes  been  set  in  new 

27 


418  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT, 

position,  and  in  throe  or  four  cases  parts  of  kindred  ser- 
mons have  been  knit  together  to  fill  out  the  thought. 
Such  knitting  is  indicated  by  a  double  date  or  in  some 
other  way  ;  but  it  has  not  seemed  worth  while  to  star 
the  print  over  to  mark  the  minor  changes. 

"  Out  of  the  Depths  "  was  a  cry  out  of  his  own  depths 
not  long  before  his  resignation.  Those  who  heard  him 
give  it  can  hardly  help  supplying  the  face  and  the  tones 
that  went  with  it.  Then  come  two  sermons  on  Mys- 
tery and  Faith,  the  latter  embracing  an  extract  from  the 
discourse  with  which  Rev.  Dr.  Peabody  was  ordained 
at  Portsmouth,  in  1833.  And  then  a  series  on  the  Spir- 
itual Life,  beginning  with  what  the  young  man  said  at 
a  still  earlier,  a  "  Christian,"  installation  at  Portsmouth, 
in  1829.  The  larger  part  of  the  sermon  on  Salvation 
through  Christ  was  given  at  Rev.  John  C.  Kimball's 
ordination  in  Beverly  ;  and  the  next  at  Rev.  James 
De  Normandie's,  once  more  at  the  Portsmouth  church, 
in  1862.  The  seventh  is  part  of  the  sermon  preached 
at  Rev.  Dr.  Morison's  installation  in  Milton.  This  and  the 
one  that  follows  it  treat  of  the  Largeness  of  Christianity 
as  shown  in  its  truths,  its  Teacher,  and  its  inspiration  for 
common  life.  The  ninth  again  strikes  the  key-note, 
"  Life,"  dwelling  more  now  on  its  outward  aspect,  and 
presenting  it  as  the  distinguishing  emphasis  of  Unitarian- 
ism.  This  leads  to  some  extracts  on  the  Importance  of 
Opinion  in  Religion  and  the  True  Sectarianism.  And 
then,  although  so  much  has  already  been  said  about  Dr. 
Gannett's  Unitarianism,  it  seems  natural  to  repeat  here 
its  beliefs  as  he  used  to  preach  them.  For  that  purpose, 
a  few  paragraphs  have  been  selected  from  a  sermon 
delivered  in  1845,  at  the  dedication  of  the  church  in 
Montreal ;  others  from  an  address  before  the  Ministerial 
Conference  in  1849 ;  and  a  longer  and  more  popular 


OUT  OF   THE  DEPTHS,  419 

statement,  —  the  extemporaneous  lecture  that  was  de- 
livered so  near  the  end. 

Several  pages  follow,  in  which  he  has  unconsciously 
drawn  his  own  portrait  in  picturing  his  ideal  of  the 
Minister's  Devotedness.  The  passages  are  mostly  gath- 
ered from  the  counsel  which  he  gave  at  different  ordina- 
tion or  installation  services,  —  a  few  out  of  the  very 
many  in  which  he  took  part,  —  those  of  Rev.  Dr.  G. 
E.  Ellis  (1840),  Rev.  J.  I.  T.  Coolidge  (1842),  Rev. 
E.  E.  Hale  (1856),  Rev.  G.  Reynolds  (1858),  and 
Rev.  J.  F.  Lovering  (1860).  The  extract  marked 
1839  is  from  the  sermon  he  delivered  before  the  Grad- 
uating Class  at  the  Harvard  Divinity  School,  and  that 
of  1850  is  from  the  Address  before  the  Alumni  of  the 
same  School. 

And  the  sermons  close  with  some  words  spoken  by 
him  of  two  cherished  friends,  Rev.  Dr.  W.  B.  O. 
Peabody,  of  Springfield  (1847),  and  Rev.  Dr.  E.  B. 
Hall,  of  Providence  (1866),  —  again,  words  that  have 
a  strangely  perfect  fitness  for  himself. 

Last  of  all  will  be  found  a  list  of  the  sermons  and 
articles  which  in  various  forms  were  published. 


Dec.  8,  1867. 
OUT   OF   THE   DEPTHS. 

Psalm  cxxx.  1 :  "  Out  of  the  depths  have  I  cried  unto  Thee,  0  Loi-d." 

Out  of  the  depths  he  cried,  and  was  heard.  Man  never 
cries  in  vain,  out  of  his  extremity.  He  is  permitted  to  go  down 
into  the  depths,  that  his  prayer  may  acquire  a  vehemence  which 
shall  make  it  effectual. 

Does  man  ever  cry  unto  God  in  vain  ?     It  would  be  sad  to 


420  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

believe  that  the  ear  of  Infinite  Love  is  closed  against  any  entreaty. 
It  would  be  more  than  sad  :  our  faith  in  God  could  not  bear 
such  a  shock.  But  He  may  let  us  sink  very  low,  that  we  may 
learn  the  mighty  prevalence  of  prayer. 

When  we  are  in  the  depths,  we  are  apt  to  think  no  one  ever 
sank  so  low  before.  But  we  know  only  our  own  experience. 
How  sorely  another  is  tried  we  cannot  know,  unless  we  can  look 
into  his  heart.  In  fact,  "  the  thing  that  hath  been  is  that  which 
is,"  and  which  "  shall  be."  Others  have  suffered  as  we  suffer, 
and  to-day  there  are  aching  hearts  —  God  only  knows  how 
many !  —  besides  ours.  He  knows  them  all.  And  that  is  the 
precious  truth.  He  sees  each  one  of  the  weary  and  worn,  the 
disappointed,  the  troubled,  the  disconsolate,  the  self-condemned. 
He  looks  down  into  all  depths,  and  hears  alike  the  groan  and  the 
sigh.  The  soul  that  feels  itself  alone  in  this  great  world  of  man- 
kind is,  in  its  most  desolate  hour,  alone  with  God,  not  without 
Him.  That  cannot  be.  And  therefore  there  is  no  condition  of 
body,  mind,  or  estate,  out  of  which  the  soul  may  not  address  its 
supplication  to  Him. 

Of  estate,  did  we  say,  hastily  repeating  words  with  which  we 
are  familiar,  and  not  considering  how  inappropriate  they  may  be 
in  this  connection  ?  Yet  not  hastily,  but  purposely,  did  we  use 
them ;  for  it  is  a  mistake  to  separate  our  worldly  condition  from  the 
presence  and  will  and  love  of  God.  Out  of  the  depths  of  trouble 
171  their  affairs,  men  should  cry  unto  Him.  They  need  His  help : 
why  shall  they  not  seek  it  ?  Ask  God  to  help  them  in  their 
business !  Some  persons  may  be  offended  at  the  suggestion,  as  if 
it  savored  of  irreverence.  Is  it  not  they  who  narrow  the  ground 
of  reverence  ?  Does  not  God's  eye  rest  upon  us  in  our  worldly 
business  ?  Does  not  Divine  judgment  wait  upon  the  merchant, 
and  cast  up  the  columns  of  loss  and  gain  in  his  books  ?  If  he  be 
prosperous,  does  he  not  thank  God  for  the  success  which  has 
crowned  his  enterprise  or  his  industry  ?  Why  shall  faith  be  an 
inmate  of  the  counting-room  on  one  day  and  not  on  another? 
No  one  needs  to  fill  his  heart  with  piety  more  than  the  man  who, 
amidst  the  uncertainties  of  business,  is  now  solicited  by  a  great 


OUT  OF  THE  DEPTHS.  421 

temptation,  and  now  is  overtaken  by  a  great  disaster.  The  most 
religious  part  of  the  community  should  be  they  who  handle 
money.  Instead  of  separating  their  business  from  their  prayers, 
they  should  make  their  business  the  subject  of  their  prayers. 
Let  a  man  pray  every  morning  that  God  will  direct  him  in  his 
transactions  through  the  day,  let  him  offer  up  a  petition  to  be 
divinely  guided  in  every  transaction  before  he  enters  upon  it, 
would  there  be  any  impropriety  in  such  address  ?  Would  it  not 
throw  a  protection  around  his  character  under  the  moral  ex- 
posure it  might  encounter? 

Now,  if  God  may  be  a  defence  against  trouble,  may  He  not  also 
be  a  refuge  in  the  time  of  trouble  ?  No  one  is  more  liable  to 
severe  disappointments  and  sudden  reverses  than  he  who  embarks 
his  fortunes  with  the  mercantile  community.  No  one  perhaps 
suffers  more  than  the  merchant,  whose  word  has  been  as  good  as 
his  bond,  and  his  bond  as  good  as  gold,  when  he  finds  himself  on  the 
eve  of  bankruptcy,  —  his  sagacity,  if  not  his  honesty,  called  in 
question,  his  ftimily  deprived  of  means  of  enjoyment,  if  not  of  sub- 
sistence, the  hard  steps  which  lie  at  the  commencement  of  a  business 
career  to  be  retaken,  unless  still  heavier  disasters  prevent,  and  the 
w^hole  aspect  of  daily  life  changed.  Some  men  meet  the  crisis 
with  brave  hearts,  but  hearts  that  bleed  ;  and  others  succumb, 
their  courage  broken,  their  hope  gone.  Is  not  this  the  very  time 
to  cry  unto  God  ?  Are  not  these  the  men  who  ought  to  cry 
out  of  the  depths  ?  Cry  that  He  will  restore  their  prosperity,  or 
will  avert  the  calamity  they  dread  ?  Yes  :  let  them  ask  for  thaty 
if  they  can  join  with  the  prayer  perfect  submission  to  the  Will 
that  may  choose  other  discipline  for  them.  Whether  they  ask  for 
that  or  not,  whether  they  escape  mercantile  ruin  or  not,  they 
may  implore  aid  to  carry  them  through  the  period  of  suspense, 
which  is  worse  than  the  final  event ;  support  that  shall  make 
them  both  strong  and  patient,  giving  them  a  calm  mind  and 
clear  judgment,  and  bring  their  intefrrity  out  of  the  trial  un- 
harmed. He  is  safe  who  can  say,  "  Out  of  the  depths  of  my 
anxiety  and  misfortune  I  have  cried  unto  Thee,  O  I>ord." 

There  is  other  trouble  besides  that  which  comes  in  the  way  of 


422  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

business ;  trouble  into  which  any  one  may  be  plunged  by  his  own 
want  of  sound  judgment,  or  by  the  folly  of  others,  or  by  circum- 
stances which  seem  to  involve  no  one  in  blame,  yet  cause  bitter  dis- 
tress. There  are  few  households  in  the  land  that  have  not  some 
spectre  stalking  through  the  apartments,  and  casting  a  shadow  over 
daily  enjoyments.  Home  is  a  word  that  covers  many  associations, 
not  all  of  which  are  pleasant.  There  are  seasons  in  young  life 
when  the  heart  is  ready  to  sink  under  a  burdeu  which  it  knows 
not  how  to  bear  or  to  cast  off.  There  are  years  of  parental  life, 
through  which  the  child  to  whom  affection  clings  is  an  occasion 
of  continual  disappointment  and  alarm.  There  is  many  a  per- 
sonal experience,  unwritten  and  untold,  that  cannot  be  described 
even  in  the  poor  words  which  but  shadow  forth  reality,  without 
filling  our  eyes  with  tears.  Thousands  of  hearts  go  down  very 
flir  below  the  surface  of  life,^to  its  deep  places,  where  the  hand 
of  God  must  be  reached  out  to  hold  tliem  up,  or  they  will  be 
overwhelmed.  These  are  the  hearts  that  should  cry  out  for 
Him,  cry  to  Him.  "  In  my  distress,'*  said  David,  "  I  called  upon 
the  Lord,  and  cried  to  my  God ;  and  He  did  hear  my  voice,  and 
my  cry  did  enter  into  His  ears."  "  Thou  hast  enlarged  me  when 
I  was  in  distress,"  he  writes  in  another  psalm ;  and,  encouraged 
by  the  past,  renews  his  supplication,  "  Have  mercy  upon  me,  and 
hear  my  prayer."  One  book  of  the  Old  Testament  is  a  long 
wail  of  lamentation.  "  My  sighs  are  many,  and  my  heart  is 
faint,"  says  the  prophet,  speaking  in  the  name  of  an  humbled  and 
crushed  people ;  yet  from  those  depths  of  national  dishonor  and 
personal  grief  he  exclaims,  ''  The  Lord  will  not  cast  off  for  ever." 
"  I  called  upon  Thy  name,  O  Lord,  out  of  the  low  dungeon.  Thou 
hast  heard  my  voice.  Thou  drewest  near  in  the  day  that  I 
called  upon  Thee :  thou  saidst.  Fear  not."  What  sweetie 
encouragement  can  be  drawn  from  the  henrt  of  tiie  gospel  ? 
That  old  Hebrew  piety  was  a  wonderful  anticipation  of  Chris- 
tian faith. 

Out  of  the  depths  of  offllctlon  we  may  cry  unto  God.  To 
whom  but  to  Him,  who  is  the  same  for  ever,  shall  we  look  in 
the  great  sorrows  of  life  ?     The  heart,  bereft  of  its  earthly  de- 


OUT  OF  THE  DEPTHS.  423 

light,  needs  to  draw  comfort  from  Heaven.  We  must  have  sym- 
pathy. Absolute  loneliness  is  a  slow  consumption  of  the  soul : 
its  ver}'-  immortality  is  assailed.  There  are  few  real  mourners, 
who  have  not  found  the  inadequacy  of  human  friendship.  They 
who  love  us  come  at  such  a  time  and  sit  with  us,  and  sj^eak 
words  that  soothe  and  strengthen  us,  and  then  leave  us  to  our- 
selves ;  and  the  loneliness  that  we  felt  before  they  came  we  feel 
when  they  go  away,  and  we  felt  it  while  they  were  with  us. 
They  cannot  go  down  into  tlie  depths  where  we  are  struggling. 
They  pity  us  as  far  as  they  can,  they  sympathize  with  us ;  but 
they  cannot  walk  with  us  through  the  billows.  There  is  only 
One  who  can  attend  us,  only  One  who  is  as  really  on  the  stormy 
deep  as  He  is  in  the  serene  heavens.  A  strange  truth,  a  sacred 
mystery!  He  who  dwelleth  in  the  light  inaccessible  walks 
with  us  in  the  darkness.  And  we  need  only  to  cry  unto  Him, 
and  His  arm  will  surround  our  failing  strength.  How  plain  a 
type  of  the  Divine  help  was  that  act  of  Jesus,  when  Peter,  as 
the  wind  grew  boisterous,  became  afraid,  and  beginning  to  sink 
cried,  "  Lord,  save  me ! "  and  immediately  Jesus  was  at  his  side 
and  bore  him  along  in  safety.  God  is  always  near,  waiting,  —  no, 
not  waiting  for  our  cry ;  but  because,  in  that  confused  state  of 
faith  and  unbelief  in  which  the  heart  finds  itself  after  bereave- 
ment, it  must  utter  the  sharp,  blind  cry  of  its  want.  He  is  ready 
with  an  answer  of  love. 

Suffering  under  any  form  is  the  call  which  the  heavenly  Father 
extends  to  us  to  put  our  trust  in  Him.  We  need  many  such  calls, 
and  therefore  many  sorrows  enter  into  our  experience.  But  the 
pain  that  we  endure  through  the  loss  of  those  who  are  dear  to  us, 
though  it  be  the  keenest,  is  the  kindest  of  all ;  for,  if  only  by  dying 
could  they  for  whom  we  would  gladly  give  up  our  lives  be  clothed 
upon  with  immortality  as  the  imperishable  garment  of  their  souls, 
God  fulfils  our  best  desire  on  their  behalf,  when  He  takes  them  out 
of  a  mortal  state,  and  so  is  kind  to  both  them  and  us.  But,  because 
in  our  weakness  we  had  leaned  on  their  companionship  as  needful 
to  us,  we  cannot  at  once  take  in  the  full  comfort  of  this  truth,  that 
death  is  life ;  and  then  the  same  heavenly  Father,  because  His  love 


424  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

is  as  patient  as  our  want  is  various,  hears  the  cry  of  our  anguish, 
and  folds  us  in  His  arms  as  tenderly  as  a  mother  the  babe  of  her 
own  bosom.  There  is  rest  for  the  weary  spirit  in  His  arms,  and 
large  communion  for  the  lonely  one,  —  a  higher  communion  and  a 
better  rest  than  the  morbid  grief,  that  will  not  forget  itself  even 
in  Him,  craves.  The  cry  must  not  be  that  God  will  supply  the 
place  of  our  friend  with  the  light  of  His  own  countenance,  —  for 
such  a  prayer  may  show  as  much  of  selfishness  as  of  faith,  —  but 
a  cry  like  that  which  broke  the  silence  of  midniglit  in  Geth- 
semane,  when  he  who  was  in  an  agony  prayed  that  the  Father's 
will  might  prevail  over  his  will,  and  from  that  prayer  rose  calm 
and  strong.  It  is  such  a  cry  that  befits  us  as  we  accompany  our 
dear  ones  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  to  that  point 
where  the  road  begins  to  ascend,  and  we  must  part  for  a  little 
while.  You  will  find  these  lines  in  a  book  just  published :  do 
they  not  report  the  truth  concerning  trouble  ?  — 

"It  is 
The  darksome  labyrinth  wherein  a  God 
Doth  graciously  lead  men,  that  every  one 
May  prove  liis  life :  that  the  bad  man  may  know 
His  wickedness  and  learn  to  cease  from  it ; 
And  that  the  good  may  by  experience 
Know  his  good  spirit  and  enjoy  it.    For 
We  see  the  bad  come  forth  from  sorrow's  cloud 
A  better,  and  tlie  good  a  kindHer,  man. 
And  is  tliere  one  whom  God  has  never  tried  1 
For  what  one  of  the  children  whom  He  made 
Loves  He  not  1  " 

Shall  we  go  down  into  yet  lowers  depths  ?  Are  there  depths 
lower  than  these  of  which  we  have  spoken,  and  yet  with  which 
man  must  become  fixmiliar  ?  With  which  he  may,  —  not  must. 
The  necessity  is  laid  on  him  only  by  his  own  choice.  If  he  will 
sill,  then  the  suffering  which  he  shall  bring  on  himself  may  lie 
beyond  any  help  which  others  can  extend,  too  far  down  from  the 
light  and  warmth  of  day  for  any  human  hand  to  offer  deliverance. 
We  have  read  of  travellers  among  the  Alps  who  have  fallen  into 
chasms  where  no  eye  could  follow  them,  and  whence  their  cry 


OUT  OF  THE  DEPTHS.  425 

could  not  clamber  up  the  sides  of  the  icy  sepulchre  in  which  they 
have  lain  bruised  and  bleeding  till  they  died.  We  shudder  at  the 
thought  of  such  a  fearful  death.  But  worse,  far  worse  is  his 
condition,  who,  crossing  the  treacherous  ground  of  sinful  indul- 
gence, finds  it  giving  way  as  he  sinks  into  the  cold  and  dark 
misery,  where  his  fellow-men,  ignorant  of  his  situation,  or  inat- 
tentive to  it,  leave  him  to  perish.  Let  him  then  come  to  under- 
stand himself,  who  shall  depict  the  anguish  that  will  seize  upon 
him  ?  lie  may  have  never  prayed,  or  he  may  have  made  prayer 
a  cloak  to  hide  his  sinful  life  from  his  own  sight.  Can  he  now 
pray,  out  of  the  depths  of  remorse?  You  may  remember,  my 
friends,  the  account  we  had,  not  long  ago,  of  men  who  were 
buried  alive  in  one  of  the  coal  mines  of  England.  In  vain  did 
their  companions  toil,  day  and  night,  to  rescue  them.  The 
chamber  in  which  they  were  confined  was  reached  too  late. 
But  there  was  found  proof  that  they  had  sustained  one  another 
by  words  of  holy  faith  and  submissive  prayer,  and  had  sung  hymns 
that  were  strains  of  everlasting  life.  And  so  the  terror  was 
taken  from  their  hearts,  and  the  horrors  of  that  fetal  imprison- 
ment down  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  seem  to  have  been  con- 
verted into  the  glories  of  martyrdom.  A  deeper  burial  from 
help  and  hope,  his,  whose  sins  have  overwhelmed  him  ;  shutting 
out  light  and  closing  every  passage  by  which  he  might  escape 
from  himself.  What  shall  he  do  ?  To  whom  can  he  cry  ? 
Society  does  but  send  back  the  echo  of  that  mournful  confession 
which  with  parched  lips  he  incessantly  repeats,  "  chief  of  sin- 
ners," "  chief  of  sinners."  Friends  take  compassion  on  him, 
and  attempt  to  divert  his  thought  from  his  own  wretchedness. 
As  well  attempt  to  turn  back  the  incoming  tide.  Some  say  he  is 
of  unsound  mind,  but  he  knows  it  is  an  unclean  heart  that  tor- 
ments him.  He  cannot  sing  hymns,  nor  commit  his  soul  to  God 
in  patient  faith,  as  did  those  miners  when  death  came  to  give 
them  deliverance.  Death  has  no  kind  message  for  him.  If  to 
live  here  in  the  consciousness  of  abused  powers  and  wasted 
opportunities  and  violated  obligations  and  habitual  ill-desert  be 
torture,  what   must   life   hereafter   be,  with   that   consciousness 


426  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

exasperated  as  the  naked  soul  encounters  eternal  realities  ?  Oh, 
where  shall  he  find  relief?  Even  where  one  of  old  found  it, 
where  a  believer  in  Christ  cannot  fail  in  finding  it.  "  Out  of 
the  depths  have  I  cried  unto  Thee,  O  Lord.  If  Thou,  Lord, 
shouldst  mark  iniquities,  O  Lord,  who  shall  stand  ?  But  there 
is  forgiveness  with  Thee,  O  Lord."  Forgiveness  for  the  chief  of 
sinners.  He  need  not  climb  up  to  heaven  to  lay  hold  upon  it. 
Let  him  from  the  depths  of  his  shame  and  ruin  send  up  the  cry, 
"  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner ! "  and  the  gospel  of  Christ  is  a 
pledge,  as  sure  as  Divine  truth  itself,  that  his  cry  shall  be  heard. 
There  is  no  degradation  so  great  that  mercy  will  not  go  down 
to  meet  it,  no  ruin  so  complete  that  it  cannot  be  repaired  by 
Divine  grace.  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner ! "  was  never 
breathed  from  a  contrite  heart  in  vain. 

"  Out  of  the  depths,"  —  how  fruitful  in  suggestion  are  these 
words !  To  how  many  of  us  do  they  recall  passages  in  our  lives 
when  the  waters  went  over  us  !  Does  our  recollection  enable 
us  to  repeat  the  whole  verse,  "  Out  of  the  depths  have  I  cried 
unto  Thee,  O  Lord  "  ?  Have  we  occasion,  while  these  words  are 
on  our  lips,  to  doubt  the  goodness  of  God  ?  Have  we  ever  cried, 
and  not  been  heard  ?  It  is  possible ;  for  the  cry  must  be  wrung 
from  the  heart,  not  go  up  from  the  lips  alone.  There  is  prayer 
that  is  no  prayer  ;  prayer  that  has  no  efficacy,  because  it  has 
no  importunity;  prayer  that  lacks  meaning,  because  it  lacks 
faith.  Two  conditions  should  be  observed  to  give  our  cry 
power  to  pierce  the  ear  of  Heaven. 

First,  it  must  be  prompted  by  a  consciousness  of  the  want,  peril, 
or  misery  in  which  we  are  placed.  Only  when  we  apprehend  the 
reality  of  our  condition,  can  we  truly  ask  to  be  lifted  out  of  it. 
Unless  one  believes  that  he  is  actually  in  danger,  it  will  be  a  false 
cry  which  he  raises  for  relief;  and,  though  it  may  at  first  deceive 
men,  as  soon  as  they  find  that  he  is  trifling  with  them  they  will 
cease  to  pay  attention  to  his  call.  Only  a  child  or  a  fool  will  play 
with  the  sympathies  of  his  companions  in  this  way.  Yet  how  often 
do  men  treat  God  as  they  would  not  treat  one  another,  repeating 
words  of  the  weightiest  import  as  carelessly  as  if  they  were  void 


OUT  OF  THE  DEPTHS,  427 

of  meaning.  It  may  be  difficult  to  say  which  is  the  greater  offence 
against  society,  —  to  put  counterfeit  money  in  circulation  among 
those  who  will  accept  it  as  good,  or  to  pour  empty  phrases  into  the 
ears  of  men  who  will  take  them  as  symbols  of  truth.  The  former 
offence  is  a  crime  of  which  the  law  and  the  courts  take  notice : 
the  latter  may  pass  without  incurring  the  penalty  which  it 
deserves.  Let  it  be  transferred  from  the  domain  of  human  to 
that  of  Divine  judgment,  it  will  not  escape  detection.  What  an 
affront  to  Almighty  God,  to  make  daily  confession  of  sin  as  a 
form  that  might  as  well  be  repeated  in  dreamy  sleep  where  one 
knew  not  what  he  was  saying !  or  to  ask  for  Divine  protection, 
when  one  trusts  to  his  own  ability  to  extricate  himself  from  the 
trouble  into  which  he  may  fall !  Some  men  need  to  be  cast 
into  "the  depths,"  that  they  may  learn  to  pray  sincerely,  and 
we  may  presume  that  for  this  reason  they  are  put  in  great  per- 
plexity or  imminent  peril  or  extreme  distress ;  for,  if  the  end 
can  ever  justify  or  explain  the  means,  does  it  not  in  a  case  like 
this,  where  the  end  is  the  communion  of  the  soul  with  God  ? 
Such  is  our  definition  of  true  prayer.  Speaking  is  not  praying. 
Neither  is  a  life  of  active  obedience  prayer,  though  it  has  been  so 
styled.  Prayer  is  the  intercourse  of  the  soul"  with  God  through 
offices  of  faith  and  supplication. 

Here  we  touch  the  second  condition  which  must  be  fulfilled 
to  obtain  an  answer  to  the  cry  that  goes  up  from  the  depths. 
He  who  sends  up  the  cry  must  have  faith,  perfect  faitii  in 
God,  —  in  God  as  one  who  is  attentive  to  every  want  and  every 
request  of  His  creatures  ;  not  bound  by  His  love  for  man  to  grant 
every  request  with  which  He  may  be  approached,  —  for  such  an 
obligation  would  make  Divine  power  the  dependent  minister  of 
the  human  will,  —  but  ready  and  sure  to  arrange  the  discipline,  if 
it  may  not  be  taken  off,  in  the  way  most  suited  to  benefit  the 
sufferer,  and  even  to  yield  him  a  better  experience  than  exemp- 
tion from  the  discipline  would  be.  This  is  faith  in  the  answer  to 
prayer,  about  which  there  is  so  much  mistake  among  religious 
people.  Man  may  not  dictate  the  reply  he  shall  receive,  but  he 
may  rely  on  the  Divine  compassion  to  do  just  that  which  is  best 


428  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

for  the  suppliant,  whether  it  be  to  remove  the  trial  or  to  send 
down  strength  to  bear  it.  It  is  while  in  the  depths,  and  through 
long  continuance  in  them,  that  the  children  of  God  oflen  realize 
the  largest  assurance  of  His  love.  The  cup  did  not,  according  to 
the  terms  of  his  prayer,  pass  undrained  from  him  who  was  the 
best -beloved  of  the  Father,  but  a  peace  such  as  the  Father  only 
could  give  settled  upon  his  spirit. 

"  Out  of  the  depths  have  I  cried  unto  Thee."  Must  we  not  be 
glad  that  the  old  psalm  which  begins  with  these  words  was 
written,  and  has  come  down  to  us,  —  as  true  to  our  experience  as 
it  was  to  the  experience  of  a  devout  and  suffering  soul  thousands 
of  years  ago  ?  Mark  how  it  soon  passes  into  another  strain,  not 
less  true  then  or  now.  "  I  wait  for  the  Lord,  my  soul  doth  wait, 
and  in  His  word  do  I  hope.  .  .  .  Let  Israel  hope  in  the  Lord : 
for  with  the  Lord  there  is  mercy,  and  with  Him  is  plenteous 
redemption."  Hope  in  the  depths  ?  Yes :  there  more  than  on 
the  level  ground  or  the  mountain-top.  That  is  the  place  for 
hope,  because  there  it  is  most  needed,  and  what  we  need  we  may 
have.  Prayer  and  hope  and  trust  and  peace  and  strength  in  the 
depths.  I  think  they  are  more  sure  to  enter  into  our  souls 
there  than  anywhere  else.  "  I  have  chosen  Thee  in  the  furnace 
of  affliction,"  —  that  was  what  the  Hebrew  theology  enabled  the 
prophet  to  say  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.  Is  the  Christian  the- 
ology less  clear  in  its  revelation  of  a  love  which  uses  affliction 
as  the  channel  of  blessing  ?  "  Out  of  the  depths  have  I  cried  unto 
Thee."  I  love  those  words.  They  have  the  mingled  flavors  of 
earth  and  heaven  in  them.  "Out  of  the  depths"  men  have 
cried  unto  God  in  all  ages,  and  been  heard.  Not  with  groans 
only,  but  with  praises  also,  have  "  the  depths  "  been  filled.  The 
saints  who  have  passed  through  much  tribulation  have  made 
them  the  hiding-places  of  their  piety,  and  the  peaceful  skies 
have  shot  rays  of  light  into  those  dark  places.  The  elect  of 
God  have  been  educated  there  for  a  higher  life.  Men  have 
become  angels  by  passing  through  the  deep,  when  the  waters 
went  over  their  heads  and  God  was  their  only  salvation.  Take 
courage  then,  O  my  soul !  bear  your  lot  without  a  murmur  or  a 


MYSTERIES.  429 

fear.  There  is  firm  and  pleasant  ground  beyond  tbe  depths,  — 
the  heavenly  ground,  which  you  must  reach  through  this  your 
appointed  way.  "  Brethren,  count  it  all  joy  when  ye  fall  into 
many  trials  ;  knowing  this,  that  the  trying  of  your  faith  worketh 
patience.  Only  let  patience  have  its  perfect  work,  that  ye  may 
be  perfect  and  entire,  wanting  nothing." 


1857. 

MYSTERIES. 
1  Tim.  iii.  9-:  "  Holding  the  mystery  of  the  faith  in  a  pure  conscience" 

Our  life  is  embosomed  in  mystery,  the  universe  is  wrapped 
in  a  garment  of  mystery.  The  unknown  infinitely  exceeds  the 
known ;  the  incomprehensible  outweighs  beyond  all  compari- 
son the  intelligible.  To  some  persons  this  is  an  unpleasant 
fact.  Yet,  properly  regarded,  it  would  give  them  great  comfort. 
Religion  conducts  us  to  the  borders  of  mystery.  Whatever  direc- 
tion we  pursue  in  our  religious  inquiries,  we  are  soon  brought  to  a 
pause  by  limits  which  we  cannot  pass.  With  some  persons  this 
is  a  special  occasion  of  surprise,  disappointment,  and  complaint, 
while  it  should,  on  the  contrary,  strengthen  their  faith  and  enliven 
their  gratitude. 

"  The  mystery  of  the  faith  "  seems  to  be  a  contradiction  in 
terms.  Whatever  is  an  object  of  faith  is  believed,  and  belief  em- 
braces only  statements  which  the  mind  can  use  as  materials  of 
thought.  We  may  repeat  words  that  convey  no  meaning  to  the 
mind,  but  they  are  not  believed  unless  they  represent  ideas. 
An  idea  is  something  which  the  mind  grasps.  And  therefore 
faith  cannot  include  mystery.  Spiritual  truths  pass  out  of  the 
region  of  mystery  into  that  of  faith  through  the  teachings  of 
revelation,  just  as  physical  truths  pass  out  of  the  province  of  the 
unknown  into  that  of  the  known  through  the  discoveries  of 
science.  When  the  apostle  spoke  of  "  the  mystery  of  the  faith," 
he  indicated  those  truths  of  religion  which  had  been  revealed  by 


430  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

the  gospel ;  such  as  the  character  and  love  of  God,  the  impartial 
offer  of  His  grace  to  all  mankind,  the  mercy  of  which  every  sin- 
ner may  avail  himself,  the  immortal  destiny  of  the  human  being. 
Before  Christ  arose  as  the  light  of  the  world,  these  great  spiritual 
facts  were  hidden  in  an  obscurity  which  the  reason  of  man  could 
not  penetrate.  Christ  placed  them  before  the  distinct  perception 
of  the  believer,  enlarging  the  domain  of  faith  by  just  so  much 
taken  from  the  realm  of  mystery.  Paul  reminds  Timothy  that 
these  are  facts  of  a  practical  kind,  affecting  life,  and  should  be 
held  with  a  pure  conscience.  In  almost  every  instance  where 
the  word  occurs  in  the  New  Testament,  it  has  a  similar  force, 
denoting  what  had  been  hidden,  but  was  made  plain  by  the  gospel 
for  the  instruction  and  comfort  of  men :  as  the  Apostle  expressly 
declares  when  he  speaks  of  the  "  revelation  of  the  mystery  which 
was  kept  secret  since  the  world  began,  but  now  is  made  manifest,'* 
even  "  made  known  to  all  nations,  for  the  obedience  of  faith ; " 
and  as  our  Lord  indicated,  when,  in  reply  to  his  disciples'  ques- 
tion, "  Why  speakest  thou  unto  them  in  parables  ?  "  he  answered, 
"  Because  it  is  given  unto  you  to  know  the  mysteries  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  but  to  them  it  is  not  given."  Revelation  and 
mystery  stand  opposed  to  one  another  just  as  light  and  dark- 
ness, the  one  displacing  the  other. 

Still  there  are  profound  and  solemn  mysteries  to  which  we 
are  guided  by  faith ;  and  our  persuasion  of  the  existence  of  these 
hidden  realities  is  one  of  the  most  comforting  and  strengthening 
elements  in  the  soul's  experience.  Everywhere,  as  we  have  said, 
we  encounter  mystery.  Why  ?  Because  everywhere  we  meet 
the  thoughts  of  an  Infinite  Mind  expressing  themselves  in  the 
forms  which  He  has  seen  fit  to  adopt.  Now  the  thoughts  of  an 
Infinite  Mind  are  not  such  thoughts  as  our  minds  can  entertain. 
As  no  mirror  which  man  could  make  would  reflect  an  image  of 
the  sun  that  should  correspond  in  its  dimensions  to  the  sun's  mag- 
nitude, so  no  conception  of  ours  can  represent  the  Divine  Intelli- 
gence. "  As  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are  my  ways 
higher  than  your  ways,  and  ray  thoughts  than  your  thoughts,*' 
was  language  which  the  Prophet  of  old  ascribed  to  Jehovah,  — 


MYSTERIES.  431 

language  as  true  to-day  as  it  was  in  the  time  of  Isaiah.  God  is 
the  Infinite  Reality.  Religion  is  the  connection  between  God 
and  the  soul.  At  one  extremity,  therefore,  it  touches  on  the 
Incomprehensible ;  and  the  more  religious  a  man  is,  the  more  he 
feels  the  thrill  of  this  connection  between  himself  and  the  Un- 
searchable Greatness.  Everywhere  we  find  that  which  we  can- 
not explain.  The  most  common  things,  if  we  examine  them, 
confound  us :  the  smallest  flower  that  grows  suggests  questions 
which  no  botanist  can  answer.  A  drop  of  water  involves  the 
action  of  laws  which  enclose  and  pervade  the  universe.  Re- 
ligion more  immediately  brings  God  before  us,  its  purpose  being 
a  vital  union  between  our  consciousness  and  the  Divine  Will. 
Brings  Him  before  us,  yet  only  as  One  the  trailing  of  whose 
garments  we  can  see  when  He  passes  by  us.  It  is  the  shadow  of 
His  glory,  which  rests  on  us.  The  Eternal  Glory  itself  is  more  en- 
tirely beyond  our  apprehension  than  is  the  globe  on  which  we 
live  beyond  the  capacity  of  a  child's  hand.  A  fearful  yet  also  a 
gracious  truth  was  signified  in  that  fine  passage  of  the  Hebrew 
narrative,  where  we  read  that  to  the  rash  request  of  Moses,  that 
Jehovah  would  show  him  His  glory,  God  replied :  "  I  will  make 
all  my  goodness  pass  before  thee,  and  I  wijl  proclaim  the  name 
of  the  Lord  before  thee ;  but  thou  canst  not  see  my  face :  for 
there  shall  no  man  see  me,  and  live.  And  the  Lord  said.  Be- 
hold, there  is  a  place  by  me,  and  thou  shalt  stand  upon  a  rock  : 
and  it  shall  come  to  pass,  while  my  glory  passeth  by,  that  I  will 
put  thee  in  a  clift  of  the  rock,  and  will  cover  thee  with  my  hand 
while  I  pass  by :  and  I  will  take  away  mine  hand,  and  thou  shalt 
see  my  retiring  form:  but  my  face  shall  not  be  seen." 

Religion,  then,  has  its  revealed  truths  and  its  hidden  truths. 
In  the  former  we  are  interested  as  rules  of  life  ;  how,  it  may  be 
asked,  can  the  latter  become  sources  of  benefit?  By  the  assur- 
ance they  give  us  of  God.  7?y  the  assurance  they  give  us  of  God. 
The  unknown  belongs  to  Him  whom  no  eye  hath  seen.  That 
which  confounds  our  understanding  reminds  us  of  the  Incompre- 
hensible One,  the  mysterious  proclaims  the  Infinite.  Therefore 
we  say  that  mystery  helps  our  faith.     If  we  could  comprehend 


432  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

all  we  see  and  all  we  experience,  we  should  have  ncthmg  within 
or  around  us  that  would  force  us  to  recognize  Divine  agency. 
Every  thing  would  come  within  the  possibilities  of  the  finite ; 
and  life,  instead  of  requiring,  would,  so  far  as  its  testimony  went, 
disprove  a  God.  Atheism  would  be  the  logical  and  the  practical 
result  of  a  life  free  from  mystery. 

Is  it  useless  for  us,  then,  to  seek  an  acquaintance  with  the 
Divine  Mmd  ?  Certainly  not ;  for  if  we  "  cry  after  knowledge 
and  lift  up  our  voice  for  understanding,  if  we  seek  as  for  silver 
and  search  as  for  hid  treasures,  then  shall  we  understand  the  fear 
of  the  Lord,  and  find  tlie  knowledge  of  God."  Ought  we  to 
prefer  mystery  to  faith?  Certainly  not;  for  God  shows  His 
goodness  to  us  in  converting  one  and  another  portion  of  mystery 
into  an  article  of  faith.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  let  us  neither 
wonder  that  there  is  so  much  which  we  cannot  understand,  nor 
complain  of  the  limitations  which  our  knowledge  cannot  surmount. 
Let  us  not  through  discontent  lose  the  benefit  which  we  may  de- 
rive from  the  character  of  our  present  existence.  Every  barrier 
which  we  cannot  pass  reminds  us  of  the  Power,  Wisdom,  and 
Goodness  which  constructed  the  universe,  —  a  goodness  as  well 
as  a  wisdom,  and  a  wisdom  as  well  as  a  power,  which  we  cannot 
comprehend,  because  they  are  Divine  and  we  are  human.  If 
they  were  within  our  comprehension,  they  would  be  human,  not 
Divine ;  and  we  should  lo.<e  our  God  out  of  the  universe.  Power, 
wisdom,  and  goodness  are  the  attributes  of  the  Creator,  which 
we  need  as  foundations  of  trust  or  hope.  Which  would  you 
rather  have  to  rely  on,  infinite  or  finite  attributes.  Divine  or 
human  ?  When  I  reach  the  inexplicable,  I  feel  a  presence  that 
awes  me :  it  is  the  presence  of  God.     It  awes,  but  it  sustains  me. 

As  we  advance  in  religious  knowledge,  do  we  lessen  the 
presence  of  the  mysterious  on  our  souls  ?  To  this  inquiry  we 
may  return  both  an  affirmative  and  a  negative  answer.  Just  so 
far  as  we  succeed  in  bringing  any  truth  within  our  comprehension, 
we  remove  it  from  among  the  secret  things  of  God,  with  which 
it  may  have  been  hidden.  But  the  effect  of  this  increase  of 
knowledge  may  be  to  enlarge  our  sense  of  the  unmeasured  ex- 


MYSTERIES.  433 

tent  of  spiritual  truth.  As  when  one  stands  at  the  entrance  of  a 
cavern,  and  sees  only  a  depth  of  space  overhung  with  darkness, 
he  can  form  little  conception  of  the  length  or  the  height  of  the 
interior ;  but  as  he  traverses  one  portion  after  another,  now  pro- 
ceeding straight  on  and  now  diverging  to  examine  some  side 
passage,  the  distance  to  which  it  probably  runs  is  better  appre- 
ciated by  him,  and  the  farther  he  penetrates  the  more  he  feels 
the  oppression  of  mingled  gloom  and  grandeur :  so,  as  we  gain  a 
larger  acquaintance  with  religious  truth,  the  immense  range  which 
it  covers  spreads  itself  out  to  our  view  with  a  wider  horizon  at 
every  step.  Just  as  all  learning  discloses  to  us  our  ignorance, 
and  the  youth  at  twenty  perceives  that  he  knows  less  than  he 
supposed  he  knew  at  fifteen,  and  those  who  are  conversant  with 
the  highest  results  of  science  are  most  sensible  of  the  vast  field 
which  invites  farther  investigation,  so  progress  in  religious  knowl- 
edge opens  successively  wider  and  wider  views  of  the  unknown. 
Take,  e.  ^.,  the  questions  which  a  theist  will  raise  in  regard  to 
the  Divine  character  or  government,  and  compare  them  with  the 
loftiest  conceptions  or  most  adventurous  curiosity  of  the  heathen 
mind ;  or  contrast  the  far-reaching  speculations  of  a  Christian 
believer  with  the  narrow  judgments  and  incurious  acquiescence  of 
an  ancient  Hebrew.  The  single  doctrine  of  immortality  which 
Christianity  has  placed  among  the  treasures  of  our  faith,  what  a 
boundless  region  of  inquiry  and  hope  has  it  disclosed  to  us,  —  like 
the  Polar  Sea,  if  the  comparison  may  be  allowed,  to  those  who 
for  the  first  time  since  the  world  began  looked  on  its  open  surfiice, 
and  by  what  they  saw  were  enabled  to  imagine  what  stretched 
beyond  their  vision  ? 

Every  truth  has  a  background  of  mystery.  No  statement 
that  we  can  make  presents  all  that  is  true  of  the  subject  to  which 
it  relates.  How  easily,  then,  may  we  distinguish  between 
knowledge  (or  faith,  which  in  regard  to  religious  truth  is  equiva- 
lent to  knowledge)  and  mystery,  and  how  clearly  discern  their 
mutual  relations  !  Whatever  falls  within  the  compass  of  fiiith  we 
can  state  in  intelligible  propositions.  Such  statements  are 
believed.     Behind  them  and  beyond  them  lie  the  mysteries  of 

28 


434  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT. 

religion,  or  unknown  truths,  wliich  we  cannot  define  and  there- 
fore do  not  believe,  but  the  existence  of  which  we  recognize  as 
necessary.  We  believe  in  the  existence  of  many  things,  of  which, 
i.e.  of  the  things  themselves,  we  cannot  be  said  to  have  any  belief. 
For  instance,  we  believe  there  are  laws  of  the  physical  universe 
which  science  has  not  yet  discovered.  What  they  are  we  do  not 
know,  and  therefore  it  would  be  false  to  say  we  believe  them  ; 
while  yet  believing  in  the  existence  and  force  of  such  laws,  and 
in  their  probable  discovery  by  future  students  of  nature,  we 
are  relieved  from  anxiety  at  what  perplexes  us,  by  our  confi- 
dence in  these  hidden  yet  determinate  methods  of  Divine  action. 

Or  let  another  illustration  explain  our  meaning.  A  person 
wrecked  on  an  apparently  uninhabited  island  by  and  by  per- 
ceives proof  that  human  beings  have  been  on  that  island  before 
him.  The  fact,  therefore,  he  believes, — just  this  fact,  and  no 
more.  Whether  they  are  still  on  the  island  or  have  left  it, 
whether  they  are  or  were  civilized  men  or  savages,  how  they 
found  their  way  thither,  and  whether  he  shall  meet  with  farther 
evidence  of  their  occupation  of  the  ground,  are  all  unknown  to 
him.  As  yet  all  these  subjects  of  inquiry  are  mysteries,  and  he 
believes  nothing  about  them.  So  behind  the  truths  of  the  gospel 
lie  questions  to  which  we  can  give  no  replies,  or  only  such  as  are 
conjectural.  The  answers  which  we  frame  out  of  our  own  con- 
ceits we  may  believe,  but  they  are  not  God's  revealed  truth. 
Leaning  on  them,  we  trust  in  our  own  thoughts,  not  in  His  com- 
munications. Where  we  dare  not  even  propose  a  reply,  we  must 
leave  the  subject  as  God  has  seen  fit  to  leave  it,  —  unrevealed, 
unexplained. 

This  difference  between  known  truths  and  truths  unknown,  or 
between  faith  and  mystery,  is  one  of  great  practical  importance. 
If  properly  considered,  it  would  prevent  a  large  amount  of  pre- 
sumption, bigotry,  and  unbelief,  —  the  bigotry  and  presumption  of 
some  persons  driving  others  into  the  opposite  extreme  of  un- 
belief. Truths  which  God  has  brought  to  light  through  the  gos- 
pel, we  may  press  upon  the  reception  of  men,  by  all  the  arguments 
which  reverence  and  gratitude  towards  God,  or  love  and  hope 


MYSTERIES.  435 

for  man,  can  prompt  us  to  use  ;  but  our  solution  of  the  mysteries 
which  He  has  kept  within  His  own  knowledge,  or  has  disclosed 
only  to  beings  in  a  higher  condition  than  ours,  should  be  pro- 
posed with  a  modest  distrust,  as  possibly  or,  at  most,  probably 
true,  and  only,  therefore,  worthy  of  attention.  Let  tliis  rule  be 
observed,  and  three-fourths  of  the  controversies  which  have  tor- 
mented the  Christian  Church  would  disappear. 

A  single  example  may  illustrate  this  remark.  In  modern 
times,  particularly,  the  warmest  disputes  among  theologians  have 
gathered  around  the  doctrine  of  the  atonement.  The  most  angry 
feelings,  the  fiercest  denunciations,  the  most  solemn  importunities, 
have  been  connected  with  the  different  interpretations  put  on  this 
doctrine.  The  various  disputants  must  therefore  have  all  believed 
in  the  atonement ;  for,  if  they  did  not,  it  would  not  have  consti- 
tuted a  ground  of  debate.  They  all  have  believed  in  it  as  a  Chris- 
tian doctrine ;  for  it  is  the  atonement  of  Christ  that  they  have 
endeavored  to  explain.  Why  might  they  not  have  been  content 
with  the  fact?  or  have  calmly  and  diffidently  proposed  their 
several  explanations  ?  The  Unitarian  who  sees  only  a  moral 
value  in  the  death  of  Christ,  and  his  brother  Unitarian  who 
thinks  there  was  something  more,  though  what  he  dare  not  and 
cannot  say  ;  the  Calvinist  who  regards  the  suffering  of  Christ 
as  an  equivalent  accepted  by  the  Father  in  place  of  the  condem- 
nation of  the  whole  world,  and  his  brother  Calvinist  who  speaks 
of  the  cross  as  an  exhibition  of  the  Divine  displeasure  against 
sin  ;  the  Christian  who,  at  one  end  of  the  long  line  of  theories 
respecting  the  atonement,  maintains  that  God  freely  forgives  the 
penitent  without  any  extrinsic  consideration ;  and  the  Christian 
who,  at  the  other  end,  affirms  that,  if  Christ  had  not  taken  upon 
himself  the  sinner's  guilt,  not  a  soul  could  have  been  saved,  and  all 
those  who  plant  themselves  on  the  intermediate  solution  of  the 
mystery  of  the  cross,  —  might  hold  their  several  opinions  with 
mutual  good-will,  if  they  would  but  distinguish  between  the  doc- 
trine and  its  explanation,  between  the  fact  and  the  reasons  which 
induced  the  Divine  mind  to  include  that  fact  in  the  gospel.  The 
fact  is  the  essence  of  the  gospel,  and  only  they  who,  in  the  apostle's 


436  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

phrase,  "have  received  the  atonement,"  can  have  any  personal 
knowledge  of  Christ  as  a  Saviour ;  but  the  reasons  which  influ- 
enced the  Divine  mind,  in  introducing  that  fact,  to  wit,  the 
atonement  as  the  reconciliation  of  the  sinner  to  God  through  the 
death  of  Christ  (and  not  by  some  other  means),  into  the  objec- 
tive history  of  God's  love,  we  need  not  understand  in  order  to  be 
saved.  I  repeat  it,  —  I  would  to  Heaven  it  could  be  repeated,  with 
the  voice  as  of  many  waters,  that  should  drown  the  confusion  of 
foolish,  scandalous  strife !  —  the  mystery  that  lies  behind  the  cross 
is  not  a  subject  for  faith  to  lay  hold  of.  That  is  God's  secret 
counsel,  which  we  should  be  careful  lest  we  ignorantly,  and  there- 
fore profanely,  di?cus8. 

The  presumption  of  many  honest  and  earnest  men  is  one  of 
the  most  painful  results  of  the  weakness  to  which  we  are  all 
liable.  They  who  know  the  least  often  talk  the  most  recklessly. 
What  title  could  be  given  to  a  book  that  should  betray  more 
manifest  disregard  of  the  limitations  of  human  knowledge  than 
this,  borne  on  a  volume  that  not  long  ago  found  considerable 
favor  with  a  certain  class  of  i-eaders,  —  "  The  Philosophy  of  the 
Plan  of  Salvation  "  ?  Plan  of  salvation,  —  this  phrase  is  objec- 
tionable enough  in  itself.  But  when  one  of  our  fellow-men  pro- 
pounds a  philosophy  of  the  plan  of  salvation,  we  are  tempted  to 
ask,  "  Who  is  this  that  by  searching  has  found  out  God  ?  "  The 
mysteries  which  lie  back  of  our  redemption,  and  which  may  be 
said  to  constitute  the  philosophy  of  the  gospel,  are  known  only  to 
Him  from  whom  the  gospel  came.  Vain  man,  you  cannot  explain 
the  processes  on  which  your  own  bodily  life  depends,  and  yet 
you  venture  to  walk  where  angels  tread  with  caution,  if  they 
tread  at  all,  —  amidst  the  infinite  thoughts  with  which  Gotl  has 
strewed  the  pathways  that  His  mercy  follows  in  its  dealings  with 
His  sinful  creatures  !  Learn  reverence  and  humility,  thou  who 
wouldst  be  a  teacher  on  earth  ! 

Paying  constant  respect  to  the  distinction  which  I  have  now 
endeavored  to  make  clear,  we  are  prepared  to  see  the  relations 
of  mutual  aid  which  exist  between  faith  and  mystery.  That  we 
believe  compels  us  to  admit  that  there  is  much   more  which 


MYSTERIES,  437 

would  be  an  object  of  faith,  if  our  minds  were  capable  of  receiv- 
ing it,  or  if  God  had  been  pleased  to  reveal  it ;  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  unknown  forms  a  support  as  indestructible  as 
the  Divine  perfections,  against  which  our  faith  may  lean.  If  we 
reluct  at  mystery,  we  must  hesitate  about  faith.  If  we  will 
not  admit  that  there  is  more  than  we  can  embrace  within  our 
belief,  we  shall  find  that  there  is  nothing  for  belief  to  accept. 
Faith  necessitates  mystery,  and  mystery  is  the  supplement  of 
faith.  Again  let  us  take  a  single  illustration.  We  live  undei  a 
providence,  God's  providence.  We  believe  this  truth,  though 
we  never  see  an  outstretched  arm  of  power  nor  an  overhanging 
canopy  of  love.  We  never  see  them :  yet  we  believe  that  the 
Divine  Goodness  overarches  our  lives  and  the  Divine  Will  leads 
our  steps.  So  far  our  faith  carries  us  to  this  conclusion,  which 
is  enough  for  us  to  know.  But,  if  the  providence  under  which 
we  live  be  Gods  providence,  it  must  include  a  great  many  sur- 
prises and  disappointments  of  our  hearts,  must  often  frustrate  our 
labors,  defeat  our  expectation,  and  inflict  pain  on  our  bodies  and 
on  our  minds.  It  must,  I  say,  —  because,  being  a  providence 
which  infinite  wisdom  has  devised  and  infinite  goodness  conducts, 
it  must  include  facts  and  methods  which  we  cannot  understand. 
There  are  not  only  perturbations  of  the  planetary  world  which 
the  astronomer  has  not  yet  calculated,  but  numberless  and  seri- 
ous disturbances  of  our  experience  which  we  can  neither  foresee 
nor  explain.  If  there  were  not,  we  should  not  be  living  under 
the  care  of  an  intelligence  higher  than  our  own. 

Doubtless,  to  some  extent  we  can  interpret  the  Divine  Pro- 
vidence. That  God  chastens  those  whom  He  loves  is  not  a  mys- 
tery ;  for  they  are  made  wiser,  better,  and  in  the  end  happier. 

"  As  the  liarp-strings  only  render 

All  their  treasures  of  sweet  sound, 
All  their  music,  glad  or  tender, 
Firmly  struck  and  tightly  bound  : 

So  the  hearts  of  Christians  owe 

Each  its  deepest,  sweetest  strain 
To  the  pressure  firm  of  woe, 

And  the  tension  tight  of  pain." 


438  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

Still,  in  each  case  of  painful  discipline,  questions  arise  that 
weary  and  baffle  us.  We  can  only  be  still,  and  know  that  it  is 
God  whose  hand  holds  us  in  its  grasp  ;  and  where  the  least  can 
be  seen,  the  evidence  is  strongest  that  the  hand  from  which  we 
cannot  escape  belongs  to  Him  whose  love  is  unsearchable.  The 
inexplicable  in  experience  compels  us  to  believe  in  providence 
as  superhuman,  self-consistent,  perfect,  Divine.  Take  away  the 
mystery,  and  you  unsettle  faith.  Nay,  disallow  mystery,  and 
you  deprive  the  soul  of  its  sweetest  satisfactions  ;  for  how  can 
we  "know  the  love  of  Christ,  which  passeth  knowledge,"  or 
how  taste  of  that  "  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  understand- 
ing," if  we  be  confined  to  the  intelligible,  the  explicable,  and  the 
familiar  ?  I  must  recognize  a  faculty  in  my  nature  higher  than 
reason,  call  it  faith,  insight,  or  what  you  will.  I  long  for  sym- 
pathies and  delights  of  too  spiritual  a  character  to  be  clad  in  the 
coarse  garments  of  a  vocabulary  borrowed  from  the  senses. 

There  are  mysteries  in  religion,  and  I  am  glad  that  there  are ; 
for  by  them  is  my  heart  opened  in  its  confidence  towards  God. 
In  him  is  mystery  that  no  created  mind  can  comprehend ;  and 
therefore  may  the  universe  of  created  minds  trust  while  they 
adore.  There  are  mysteries  of  which  the  gospel  is  an  intima- 
tion, and  for  them  I  am  thankful ;  for  by  them  I  am  established 
in  my  conviction  that  it  came  from  the  Being  whose  ways  are 
past  my  finding  out.  There  is  that  in  Christ  which  I  cannot 
understand.  I  dare  not  attempt  to  explain  all  I  read  in  the 
New  Testament,  as  if  it  were  a  child's  elementary  reading-book. 
Contradiction  I  would  disallow,  for  Divine  truth  cannot  destroy 
itself.  What  may  be  contrary  to  reason,  I  will  not  look  for  in 
Scripture,  since  the  two  revelations  which  the  Father  of  spirits 
has  given  to  man  must  be  harmonious ;  but  what  is  above  and 
beyond  my  reason,  I  expect  to  find  there,  and  I  will  gratefully 
receive  it.  There  are  mysteries  in  my  life,  —  God  be  thanked 
that  they  are  many ;  for  so  does  He  multiply  the  proofs  of  my 
dependence  on  Him,  and  the  testimonies  of  His  interest  in  me. 
There  are  mysteries  in  my  spiritual  experience.  If  there  were  not, 
how  poor  would  that  experience  be, — poorer  than  my  social  or  my 


MYSTERY  OF  GOD.  439 

bodily  condition  !  He  who  is  impatient  whenever  he  encounters 
the  unintelligible  must  be  continually  offended  with  himself. 
He  who  would  live  without  mystery  must  live  without  faith, 
without  religion,  without  God. 


1865. 

THE   MYSTERY   OF    GOD. 

Job  xi.  7  :  "  Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  God !  canst  thou  find  out  the 
Almighty  unto  perfection  ?  ** 

Op  all  the  words  which  come  into  use  in  speaking  on  religious 
subjects,  none  includes  more  in  its  true  signification,  or  should 
suggest  more  to  the  human  mind,  than  the  name  which  we  most 
frequently  give  to  the  Supreme  Being.  Yet  no  other  word  in 
our  language  is  probably  so  little  understood  — or,  perhaps  I  should 
rather  say,  presents  to  our  thought  so  little  in  comparison  with 
its  real  meaning  —  as  the  word  God.  The  term  is  too  vast  for 
human  faculties  to  measure.  It  contains  more  than  can  be  weighed 
in  the  scales  of  human  thought,  it  embraces  mysteries  of  being 
which  transcend  our  utmost  endeavor  to  grasp  them.  Yet  this 
fact,  that  no  effort  which  we  can  make  will  enable  us  to  compre- 
hend the  Divine  Being,  offers  us  matter  for  profitable  considera- 
tion. The  mystery  of  God  is  a  subject  which  will  be  usefully 
treated,  if  it  shall  lead  us  to  inquire,  first,  why  we  can  know  so 
little ;  and,  secondly,  how  we  may  be  saved  from  the  grosser 
ignorance  in  which  so  many  persons  are  sunk. 

First,  God  is  incomprehensible  in  His  nature.  We  know  that 
He  is  a  Spirit;  but  how  much  oi positive  knowledge  is  conveyed 
by  that  expression  ?  Of  His  mode  of  being  we  know  nothing. 
Uncreated, — not  even  self-originated,  because  origin  implies 
beginning,  —  but  from  eternity  self-existent  and  unchangeable, 
how  can  we  comprehend  Him  to  whose  eternal  consciousness 
our  own  inward  experience  presents  no  analogy. 

Again,  the  infinity  of  God  will  not  allow  us  to  bring  Him 


440  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

within  the  province  of  ideas  with  which  we  are  familiar.  Who 
can  give  more  than  a  negative  definition  of  infinity  ?  Illimitable, 
i.  e.  without  limits,  not  finite,  —  this  is  all  we  mean  by  infinite. 
If  we  take  up  the  Divine  attributes,  each  of  which  has  this 
quality,  the  introduction  of  the  quality  prevents  our  entertain- 
ing an  adequate  notion  of  the  attribute.  Omnipresence,  — can  we 
conceive  of  this,  except  as  we  break  it  into  fragments,  as  it  were, 
and  gather  up  a  few  of  them  to  represent  the  whole  ?  Omnis- 
cience, or  the  knowledge  of  every  thing,  —  how  can  they  who 
know  scarce  any  thing  understand  this  perfection  of  the  Divine 
Mind  ?  The  Holiness  of  God,  —  did  the  most  spiritual  man  on 
earth  ever  rise  to  more  than  a  contemplation  of  some  of  its  ex- 
ternal aspects  ?  The  Divine  character  in  manifestation  may  be 
a  subject  of  study,  because  manifestation  is  so  far  a  removal  of 
the  veil  behind  which  it  is  hid.  But  that  character  itself —  in 
its  essence,  I  mean,  in  its  integrity,  its  absolute  reality  —  can 
never  be  revealed  to  a  created  intelligence.  God  alone  can 
read  the  mystery  of  inevitable  and  spotless  holiness. 

The  Divine  Providence  also  is  inscrutable.  We  ascertain  some 
of  the  laws  which  it  observes,  and  use  them  as  grounds  of 
reliance  in  the  arrangements  which  we  make  for  our  outward 
life.  Scientific  men  have  traced  the  action  of  these  laws  through 
the  convulsions  which  in  past  ages  have  rent  or  rebuilt  our  globe, 
and  in  the  relations  which  prevail  among  the  heavenly  bodies. 
The  historian  of  the  present  day  takes  the  idea  of  a  Divine  plan 
as  his  clew  in  traversing  the  passages  of  national  and  social  experi- 
ence. But  how  often  is  the  keenest  penetration  at  fault,  and  the 
most  carefully  constructed  hope  turned  into  disappointment  by 
the  event !  We  can  see  but  a  little  way  around  us,  a  little  way 
before  us,  even  bat  a  little  way  behind  us.  Yet  the  providence 
of  God  reaches  from  the  besjinnins:  of  the  creation  onward 
through  all  its  stages,  at  once  including  all  facts  and  included  by 
them,  the  most  comprehensive  and  the  most  delicate  of  forces, 
the  guardian  and  guarantee  of  order,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
labyrinth  of  wonders.  How  can  we  explain  such  a  providence  ? 
Tlie  history  of  a  single  human  life  is  more  than  we  can  decipher, 
the  growth  of  a  blade  of  grass  more  than  we  can  understand. 


MYSTERY  OF  GOD.  441 

Again,  we  speak  of  God  as  the  Moral  Governor  of  the  uni- 
verse, indicating  the  most  important  relation  which  He  holds  to 
us  or  to  any  of  His  creatures.  Indicating,  but  not  describing  it. 
For  what  are  our  best  attempts  to  translate  the  will  of  the 
Supreme  Mind  into  intelligible  forms  of  expression  but,  as  it 
were,  the  rudiments  of  a  language  which  a  higher  intelligence 
than  ours  must  frame  into  sentences  ?  The  essential  principles 
of  the  Divine  government  we  may  be  said  to  know,  because  we 
ascribe  to  God  both  unimpeachable  rectitude  and  inexhaustible 
goodness,  and  from  His  moral  perfection  draw  the  assurance  that 
His  omnipotence  must  always  act  in  the  interest  of  holiness.  But, 
when  we  have  assumed  or  decided  so  much,  we  only  open  a 
door  for  faith  to  enter  and  bow  in  adoration  before  an  incompre- 
hensible wisdom.  The  progress  of  human  affairs  confounds  our 
moral  judgment,  and  tempts  us  again  and  again  to  ask  how  what 
we  see  can  be  reconciled  with  that  regard  for  the  right  and  the 
good  which  must  be  a  constant  element  in  the  Divine  care  of 
our  world.  It  is  not  reason  only  that  is  baffled,  but  faith  itself 
is  sorely  tried. 

Still  more  difficult  is  it  to  apprehend  that  intimacy  of  God 
with  the  human  soul,  which  nevertheless  is  the  foundation  of 
our  best  acquaintance  with  Him.  To  apprehend,  I  mean,  by 
any  act  or  force  of  the  understanding.  It  is  here  ihaf  we  realize 
in  its  highest  sense  the  meaning  of  the  Apostle's  remark  that 
spiritual  things  are  ''  spiritually  discerned."  This  spiritual  dis- 
cernment of  the  Father  of  spirits  belongs  to  a  region  of  the  con- 
sciousness more  interior  than  the  intellectual  faculty  can  penetrate 
or  the  terms  of  human  speech  describe.  The  all-surrounding, 
indwelling  Presence  that  upholds  me,  searches  me,  inspires  just 
thought,  quickens  every  good  purpose,  informs  and  aids  con- 
science in  the  discharge  of  its  office,  meets  the  aspiration  of  an 
humble  heart  and  rewards  it  with  the  joy  of  a  communion  as 
sacred  as  it  is  real,  —  what  is  this  Presence  but  a  condescension, 
we  might  almost  say,  a  limitation,  of  Himself,  on  the  part  of  the 
Infinite  One,  —  an  experience,  an  exaltation  almost  above  him- 
self, on  the  part  of  the  creature,  which  any  attemj)t  of  ours  to 


442  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

put  into  words  reduces  at  once  to  a  contradiction  and  an  im- 
possibility? Yet  the  intercourse  of  the  soul  with  God  is  the 
most  precious  and  vital  fact  of  our  being,  involving  all  that  is 
dearest  in  our  present  history,  and  justifying  the  purest  and 
loftiest  hope  which  we  can  cherish.  It  is  a  fact,  however,  envel- 
oped in  mystery.  The  soul  is  abashed  and  overwhelmed  at  the 
thought  of  God's  nearness  to  its  most  private  exercises.  I  am 
never  in  such  multitudinous  companionship  as  when  I  am  alone 
with  God  ;  never  so  little  alone  as  when  conscious  that  Be  is 
with  me  whom  "'  no  eye  hath  seen  nor  can  see."  Let  me  extend 
my  thought  beyond  myself  and  try  to  seize  upon  the  truth,  that 
He  is  as  near  to  every  other  human  being,  —  at  the  same  mo- 
ment coixnizant  of  all  wants  and  all  occurrences  throughout  the 
universe  of  which  our  largest  discoveries  have  taken  in  but 
a  little  part,  —  and  I  find  myself  like  one  who  in  a  frail  skiflf 
has  put  off  on  an  ocean  of  unknown  magnitude,  without  sail  or 
instrument.  In  my  closet,  I  am  taught  by  my  own  meditation 
that  it  is  not  t?iy  prayer  alone  which  is  heard.  The  praises  and 
the  supplications  of  myriads  of  hearts  reach  their  common  object, 
without  being  lost  in  confusion  by  the  way,  or  failing  of  distinct 
notice  by  Him  to  whom  they  are  all  addressed.  I  believe  it  is 
so ;  I  know  it  must  be  so :  yet  it  is  as  impossible  for  me  to  con- 
ceive of  such  a  personal  relation  of  one  Being  to  all  other  beings 
as  it  would  be  to  grasp  the  sceptre  of  Almighty  power  and 
assert  my  right  of  sovereignty. 

The  mystery  of  God  deepens  upon  us  the  nearer  we  approach 
it.  As  all  knowledge  shows  us  our  ignorance,  so  the  mo  e  vvv) 
know  of  God,  the  more  clearly  do  we  perceive  how  little  we 
know.  What,  then,  shall  we  do  ?  what  shall  we  say  ?  Shall 
we  pronounce  faith  a  delusion,  and  speak  of  the  Unseen  One  as 
if  He  were  but  the  ideal  which  a  religious  imagination  has  framed 
for  its  own  purposes  ?  Shall  we  follow  the  Pantheist  into  his 
irrational  conclusions,  or  the  Atheist  into  his  dreary  unbelief? 
Has  the  mystery  no  edges  of  light,  no  crevices  through  which 
shines  an  illumination  from  the  Infinite  Reality  ?  Are  we  like 
men  who  have  entered  a  cavern,  only  to  be  terrified  by  the  dis- 


MYSTERY  OF  GOD.  443 

tance  which  they  feel,  rather  than  see,  stretching  before  them 
into  darkness  ?  Are  we  in  worse,  ten  thousand  times  worse, 
condition  than  the  beasts,  which  have  no  idea  of  a  Supreme  In- 
telligence to  torment  them  with  its  own  inadequacy?  Such 
impious  thoughts  we  cannot  indulge.  Such  questions  as  these 
we  would  rather  trample  into  the  dust.  There  is  a  God,  un- 
searchable in  greatness,  yet  revealed  by  His  own  will  and  act  to 
the  believing  soul. 

Nay,  if  He  were  not  incomprehensible.  He  would  not  be  the 
great  God,  the  only  Living  and  True.  The  mystery,  which 
like  a  halo  of  glory  conceals,  yet  makes  us  sure  of  the  Infinite 
One,  imposes  a  healthful  and  needful  discipline  upon  us,  rebukes 
our  arrogance,  chastens  our  self-esteem,  and  teaches  us  to  walk 
in  humility  along  the  borders  of  this  ineffable  glory.  We  may 
find  in  it  a  motive  for  pursuing  our  inquiries  in  this  humble  spirit. 
That  which  is  level  with  the  understanding  excites  comparatively 
little  interest.  It  is  the  unknown  which  we  wish  to  know. 
The  difficult  rouses  energy,  the  inaccessible  enkindles  desire. 
In  obedience  to  this  law,  an  jionest  heart  will  be  drawn  towards 
God  by  the  boundless  perfection  which  is  His  alone.  Hereafter, 
what  provocation  will  be  given  to  the  soul,  through  the  succes- 
sive periods  of  immortality,  to  bring  itself  into  better  acquaint- 
ance with  the  Author  and  Ruler  of  all  things !  May  we  not 
confidently  say  that  the  great  employment  of  eternity  will  be  the 
study  of  the  Divine  perfection,  now  in  its  various  forms  of  exhi- 
bition, and  now  in  its  personal  integrity?  To  know  God  is  the 
pursuit  of  angels,  and  still  higher  beings,  if  higher  there  be.  It 
is  a  pursuit  that  can  never  reach  its  termination,  since  the  In- 
finite is  always  removed  from  the  experience  of  the  finite  by  a 
distance  which  the  latter  can  never  overcome. 

How  may  this  distance  be  lessened,  is  a  question  that  naturally 
follows  the  remarks  to  which  your  attention  has  been  drawn. 
It  is  a  question  in  which  every  one  ought  to  take  an  interest ; 
since  a  knowledge  of  God,  though  it  be  difliicult  and  partial,  is 
more  important  than  any  other  acquisition  that  we  can  make. 
Difficult,  do  we  say,  and  have  we  been  saying  all  along  ?     Difficult 


444  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

only  as  an  exercise  of  the  intellect.  Theology,  as  a  science,  con- 
sists, on  the  one  hand,  of  propositions  which  transcend  the  under- 
standing ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  of  proofs  which  the  understand- 
ing must  accept.  Here  lies  the  embarrassment  of  which  we  have 
been  speaking.  We  are  compelled  by  the  laws  of  human  thought 
to  ascribe  to  God  the  infinite  attributes  which  cause  us  so  much 
trouble  in  the  attempt  to  apprehend  them.  Pure  theism  is  at 
once  the  most  rational  and  the  most  unsatisfactory  of  beliefs. 
Nature,  life,  tradition,  the  highest  wisdom,  the  meanest  experience, 
all  concur  in  teaching  us  the  Divine  perfection.  Yet  what  is  it 
that  we  are  taught  ?  Or,  rather,  what  is  it  that  we  learn  ?  Not 
the  whole  of  what  is  included  in  the  Divine  perfection ;  nor 
much  of  it ;  nor,  as  we  have  said,  more  than  a  very  little.  Like 
a  child  learning  his  alphabet,  we  get  certain  necessary  sounds. 
To  exchange  those  sounds  for  adequate  ideas  is  a  task  to  whi(  h 
our  minds  are  unequal. 

Are  we,  then,  left  to  an  ignorance  the  more  painful  because 
we  are  continually  reminded  of  it  by  facts  that  bring  the  Divine 
action  under  our  notice  ?  No  :  let  us  with  the  utmost  emphasis 
deny  that  we  are  placed  in  so  cruel  a  condition.  Knowledge 
is  of  two  kinds,  speculative  and  experimental,  —  in  the  head 
and  in  the  heart :  knowledge  about  which  we  may  argue  and 
dispute,  and  have  our  doubts,  and  involve  ourselves  in  hopeless 
perplexity  ;  and  knowledge  which  is  not  a  subject  of  discus- 
sion, but  an  element  of  the  spiritual  consciousness.  If  we  try 
to  enlarge  the  former  kind  of  knowledge  in  respect  to  Divine 
things,  we  are  liable  to  disappointment,  we  cannot  indeed  escape 
disappointment.  We  cannot  "  by  searching  find  out  God." 
Searching  is  not  the  way  to  arrive  at  an  acquaintance  with  Him. 
Tliat  is  mental  effort  in  a  direction  in  which  such  effort  will  be 
wasted.  We  must  receive  the  truth,  not  hunt  after  it ;  look  up  to 
the  heavens  and  wait,  instead  of  digging  into  the  earth  with  vain 
toil ;  open  our  hearts,  instead  of  racking  our  brains.  The  best 
knowledge  always  comes  in  this  way. 

I  sit  down  before  a  picture  of  some  great  master  of  art.  I  can- 
not explain  it,  except  in  the  most  superficial  and  unmeaning  man- 


MYSTERY  OF  GOD.  445 

ner.  T  cannot  tell  you  where  its  excellence  lies.  If  I  have  learned 
the  technical  words  which  the  painters  use,  I  only  expose  my  igno- 
rance by  attempting  to  apply  them.  I  cannot  describe  the  picture 
when  I  leave  it.  Yet  as  I  sit  silently  gazing,  studying,  absorbed, 
moved  perhaps  to  tears,  the  canvas  becomes  a  living  spectacle.  I 
see  more  than  the  eye  sees.  I  take  in,  —  ahomely  phrase,  indeed, 
but  how  true!  —  I  take  in  and  carry  away  that  picture,  and  it  is 
mine  to  enjoy  as  long  as  I  live.  So  it  is  with  our  penetration  of 
the  Everlasting  Reality  which  we  call  God.  In  the  silence  of 
thought  I  look  and  study  and  feel,  and  begin  to  apprehend,  and  at 
last  comprehend,  —  take  in,  not  as  an  idea,  but  as  a  fact,  the 
Divine  greatness,  goodness,  holiness,  every  attribute  in  that  infinite 
and  incomprehensible  Nature,  and  carry  it  away  in  my  soul,  and 
keep  it  there,  —  God  in  me,  of  whom  I  may  be  able  to  say  but 
little,  because  there  may  have  been  but  little  mental  activity. 
That  is  a  very  instructive  line,  "  Be  still,  and  know  that  I  am 
God."  And  this  is  faith,  —  this  experience  of  the  soul,  this  answer 
of  the  spiritual  consciousness  to  the  inquisitive  reason.  Better, 
oh !  incomparably  better  than  any  answer  which  the  reason 
could  construct  for  itself;  for  the  best  answer  which  the  intellect- 
ual faculty  could  frame  would  be  but  paper  bearing  an  accred- 
ited yet  not  a  real  value,  while  the  interior  experience  is  pure 
gold,  the  product  of  an  inexhaustible  mine. 

I  need  only  add  that,  in  entering  upon  or  maintaining  such  an 
acquaintance  with  God,  we  derive  the  greatest  assistance  from 
the  revelation  which  He  has  made  of  Himself  by  Christ.  This 
revelation  is  twofold. 

First,  verbal.  Christ  has  taught  us  to  call  God,  the  Supreme 
Being,  "our  Father." 

^  Father !  the  word  implies  affection,  solicitude,  care,  delight, 
whatever  enters  into  the  conception  of  personal  interest  of  the 
closest  kind.  Always,  everywhere,  our  Father,  —  then  never 
absent  from  our  need  or  our  approach.      Infinite?     Yes;    but 


1  This  parnatraph  and  the  next  are  inserted  from  a  sermon  of  1861 
on  "A  Near  God." 


446  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT. 

what  an  amount  of  meaning  is  added  to  the  name  of  "  Father  " 
by  this  quality  in  His  being !  Because  infinite,  only  the  more 
intimately  present  with  all  His  creatures  and  at  all  times.  Il- 
limitable and  inexhaustible  love  must  we  ascribe  to  an  infinite 
Father ;  and  therefore  we  have  an  argument  of  the  utmost 
strength  to  assure  us  that  He  is  very  near  us,  nearer  than  any 
other  being,  nearer  than  any  other  influence,  so  near  that  His 
presence  makes  a  part  of  our  life. 

The  difficulty,  too,  which  our  sins  erect  as  a  barrier  to  our  in- 
tercourse with  the  Father  of  spirits,  is  overcome  through  our 
faith  in  the  testimony  which  Christ  has  borne  concerning  the 
Divine  forgiveness.  A  merciful  God  is  our  Father  in  heaven. 
It  was  man's  sinfulness  that  brought  the  Son  of  God  from  the 
bosom  of  infinite  love  to  our  world.  Because  man  was  self- 
betrayed  and  on  the  brink  of  ruin,  God  sent  His  Son  to  extend 
the  help  he  needed.  To  our  sin  we  are  indebted  for  the  confi- 
dence which  we  have  towards  Him  who  would  not  that  we  should 
perish.  Yes:  even  so,  even  so.  The  man  who  is  most  pain- 
fully conscious  of  his  ill-desert,  whose  transgressions  have  been 
more  than  tongue  can  tell,  he  it  is  who  has  the  most  satisfactory 
proof  that  God  cares  for  him  with  a  pity  as  unutterable.  Have 
you  ever  seen  parental  love  yearning  towards  an  ungrateful 
child  the  more  tenderly,  the  more  perverse  he  has  shown  himself? 
a  mother,  whose  h^art  would  have  broken  if  it  had  not  been 
strong  through  love,  making  every  sacrifice  for  one  who  has  re- 
quited her  with  fresh  occasion  for  sorrow  every  year  and  every 
day,  yet  who  thinks  more  of  the  wanderer  from  her  arms  than  of 
all  the  rest  of  her  household  ?  The  patient  mother  watching  for  the 
opportunity  which  shall  enable  her  to  regain  her  influence,  the 
mother  whose  most  earnest  desire  is  expressed  in  the  thought, 
"  Oh,  if  he  would  but  let  me  forgive  him  !  "  —  that  human  parent 
shows  us  faintly  —  faintly,  I  say  —  the  interest  which  God  feels 
in  one  of  His  sinful  children,  according  to  the  revelation  which 
He  has  made  through  and  in  Christ. 

But  this  revelation  is  not  instruction  for  the  mind  to  analyze 
or  measure.     KI  wish  to  know  the  meaning  of  the  word  "  father," 


MYSTERY  OF  GOD.  447 

I  do  not  go  to  the  dictionary,  nor  to  the  statutes  of  the  Common- 
wealth, nor  to  legal  decisions,  but  to  ray  own  childhood  and 
my  own  home.  I  recall  the  days  of  parental  guidance  and 
affectionate  care :  the  image  of  one  passed  into  the  heavens  rises 
before  me  ;  and,  becoming  again  a  child,  I  am  able  to  put  a  true 
interpretation  on  that  dear  domestic  title  which  was  so  familiar  in 
my  early  years.  Or  I  ask  my  heart  to-day  what  the  word  means, 
and  the  love  of  which  I  am  conscious  informs  me.  It  is  through 
the  affections  that  we  receive  the  import  of  words  which  owe  their 
place  in  our  languages  to  an  exercise  of  the  affections. 

Secondly,  the  revelation  through  Christ  is  personal.  He  is 
himself  a  manifestation  of  the  Divine,  of  the  Perfect.  To  know 
Christ  is  to  know  God. 

^  The  character  of  Christ,  —  on  this  infinite  theme  I  wish  it 
were  possible  for  me  to  utter  my  o«'n  feelings.  I  call  it  an 
infinite  theme,  for  such  it  appears  to  me.  It  comprises,  I  believe, 
a  revelation  of  all  that  can  be  known  of  God  or  of  human  duty. 
Unlike  every  other  being  that  has  appeared  on  earth,  he  was 
sinless  and  perfect.  We  behold  in  him  an  unparalleled  combina- 
tion of  virtues.  He  united  the  most  dissimiliar  traits,  —  dignity 
with  humility,  consciousness  of  power  with  meekness  and  tender- 
ness, the  most  delicate  sensibility  with  an  adamantine  fortitude, 
devotion  to  the  will  of  God  with  boundless  philanthropy,  abhor- 
rence of  sin  with  compassion  for  the  sinner,  excellence  on  the 
broadest  scale  with  fidelity  to  duty  in  the  minutest  details. 
There  was  no  defect  and  no  excess.  We  cannot  imagine  his 
character  despoiled  of  a  single  attribute  and  not  perceive  tliat  it 
would  be  injured  by  the  loss.  We  cannot  add  a  single  grace 
that  would  not  mar  its  symmetry.  It  was  his  prerogative,  and 
his  alone,  to  reply  to  one  who  desired  to  see  God,  "  tie  who 
hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the  Father."  In  him  were  hidden  all 
the  treasures  of  knowledire  and  love.     In   him  was  truth  em- 


1  This  paragraph  and  the  next  are  borrowed,  in  compressed  form, 
from  a  sermon  of  1833,  on  "  The  Cliristian  Ministry,"  preached  at  Dr. 
Andrew  V.  Peabody's  ordination  at  Portsmouth,  N.H. 


448  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

bodied.  In  his  character  the  everlasting  principles  of  the  Divino 
government,  the  essential  doctrines  of  religion,  were  manifested. 
"  I  am,"  said  he,  "  the  truth." 

Here  Jesus  Christ  stood  alone.  "  Greater  V70rks  than  these 
shall  ye  do,"  said  he  to  his  disciples ;  but  not  a  greater  miracle 
than  I  am  shall  you  offer  to  men's  admiration,  —  he  made  no 
such  promise.  Peter,  John,  Paul,  was  not  a  second  Christ. 
No :  he  was  alone  in  the  grandeur  and  beauty  and  perfection  of 
his  character.  We  must  assign  to  this  prodigy  an  adequate  pur- 
pose ;  and  while  I  can  discover  nothing  short  of  that  which  con- 
siders it  a  revelation  —  not  an  evidence  nor  a  sanction,  not  the 
credential  nor  the  seal,  but  a  revelation  —  of  truth,  while  I  find 
nothing  short  of  this  that  will  satisfy  me,  I  rest  here  in  the  con- 
viction that  I  have  found  its  meaning,  its  purpose,  its  justification, 
its  worth  and  its  glory. 

But  how  is  Christ  known  ?  By  an  intellectual  examination, 
or  by  a  moral  appreciation?  Neither  through  metaphysical 
nor  through  psychological  study  shall  we  find  the  avenue  to 
an  acquaintance  with  him  on  whom  his  enemies  endeavored 
to  fasten  the  charge  of  blasphemy  because  he  called  himself 
"  the  Son  of  God."  We  do  not  put  ourselves  in  relations 
of  intimacy  with  Christ  in  this  way.  Is  it,  then,  by  making 
ourselves  familiar  with  every  incident  that  the  Evangelists 
offer  for  our  study,  till  we  can  describe  the  whole  outward  life 
of  Jesus  as  if  it  had  passed  under  our  eyes  ?  If  our  knowl- 
edge of  him  be  confined  to  the  external  history,  we  might  almost 
as  well  have  studied  Worcester  or  Robinson  as  Matthew  and 
John.  They  know  Christ  who  approach  him  through  sympathy, 
welcome  him  through  fiiith,  receive  him  into  believing  hearts. 
There  his  character  discloses  its  beauty,  its  power,  and  its  value 
as  a  revelation  of  the  One  Character,  which,  like  the  Divine 
Appearance,  can  only  be  made  known  by  sign  or  by  reflection, 
never  in  its  awful  radiance.  He  that  hath  realized  the  s{)iritual 
influence  of  Christ  is  alone  able  to  understand  that  personal 
superiority  which  made  him  the  image  of  the  Majegty  on  high, 
the  milder  type  of  the  inaccessible  Glory. 


CONSCIOUSNESS   OF  SPIRITUAL  LIFE,       449 

The  ^um  of  our  remarks  is  this  :  God  cannot  be  known  as  His 
material  works  are  known,  by  scientific  investigation  ;  nor  as  ab- 
stract truth  becomes  the  property  of  the  mind,  by  hard  thought : 
but  as  we  discover  what  is  beautiful  or  good,  through  a  use  of  the 
moral  faculty  which  distinguishes  us,  and  through  that  exercise  of 
faith  which  is  the  prerogative  of  the  soul.  The  mystery  that  has 
confounded  and  distressed  us  begins  then  to  clear  away.  We  dis- 
cover enough  of  that  which  it  hides  for  our  daily  use,  our  present 
comfort,  and  our  final  hope.  It  is  not  to  the  curious  or  the  bold, 
to  those  who  think  that  "  by  searching  they  can  find  out  God," 
or  can  by  any  process  "  find  out  the  Almighty  unto  perfection," 
that  the  revelation  of  the  Unseen  One  is  given,  but  to  the  hum- 
ble and  the  "  pure  in  heart."  We  have  been  told  of  a  traveller 
who  could  make  no  use  of  the  organ  of  sight ;  but  who,  as  he 
passed  from  place  to  place,  so  appropriated  to  himself  the  features 
of  the  spot  which  he  visited,  understanding  and  enjoying  the 
outward  beauty  by  a  sympathy  which  interpreted  verbal  descrip- 
tion, that  he  knew  more  of  the  scene  than  many  who  had  lived 
there  all  their  lives.  By  a  kindred  power  of  moral  apprehension, 
the  invisible  glories  of  the  Divine  Being  may  be  felt,  and  in  a 
measure  be  understood,  by  him  who  has  but  a  faint  intellectual 
discernment  even  of  lower  things  ;  while  others  who  are  wise  or 
learned  in  matters  that  lie  within  the  province  of  w^hat  we  usually 
call  knowledge  may  be  ignorant  of  the  God  in  whom  they  live 
and  move  and  have  their  being.  Tlie  mystery  of  God  gives  to 
the  universe  a  foundation  for  its  security,  and  to  the  believer  a 
justification  of  his  faith. 


1829. 

RELIGION   THE   CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  CULTURE  OF  A 
SPIRITUAL  LIFE  AND  OF  SPIRITUAL  RELATIONS. 

Rom.  viii.  6  :  "To  he  spiritually  minded  is  life." 

Man  is  connected  with  two  states  of  existence,  is  an  inhabitant 
of  two  wm'lds,  one  material  and  visible,  the  other  spiritual  and 
eternal.     By  his  senses  he  communicates  with  that  which  is  seen 

29 


450  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

and  present,  with  the  ohjects  and  circumstances  of  earth,  is 
affected  by  them,  lives  in  them.  By  his  mind  he  holds  inter- 
course with  that  which  is  unseen  yet  present,  with  the  beings 
and  hopes  of  heaven,  is  influenced  by  them,  lives  among  them. 
Man,  therefore,  is  a  partaker  of  a  double  life,  —  the  one  the  life  of 
sense,  the  other  the  life  of  faith,  —  the  one  outward,  the  other 
interior.  For  this  twofold  existence  he  was  designed  by  his 
Creator.  It  is  his  natural  being.  The  foundation  of  religion,  I 
repeat  because  it  is  often  denied,  the  foundation  of  religion  is 
laid  in  man's  nature  by  the  hand  of  his  Creator  in  his  religious 
capacities  and  affections,  which  as  truly  belong  to  his  nature  as 
do  his  intellectual  faculties  and  social  affections ;  and,  if  the  con- 
sciousness of  these  latter  indicates  that  man  is  designed  for  an 
intellectual  or  social  life,  the  consciousness  of  the  former  indi- 
cates that  he  is  designed  for  a  religious  or  spiritual  life.  The 
poverty  of  language,  however,  obliges  us  when  speaking  of4he 
soul  to  employ  terms  originally  appropriated  to  the  body.  Thus 
we  discourse  on  the  spiritual  vision,  the  inward  ear,  the  moral 
taste. 

It  is  the  office  of  Religion  to  excite  and  cultivate  these  inte- 
rior senses.  Religion  opens  and  purges  the  eye  of  the  soul, 
enables  it  to  hear  spiritual  truths,  and  causes  them  to  be  felt. 
Its  chosen  province  is  the  soul.  Its  kingdom  is  within  us,  its 
rule  is  spiritual,  its  subject  is  what  the  apostle  Peter  styles  the 
hidden  man  of  the  heart.  Wonder  not  that  man  often  seems  to 
be,  and  is,  unconscious  of  the  elements  that  lie  in  his  soul  as  the 
life  of  the  plant  in  the  seed,  which,  ai)parently  destitute  of  a  vital 
principle,  needs  only  heat  and  moisture  to  stimulate  it  into 
action.  The  vital  principle  of  religion  must  be  excited  by  causes 
that  are  without  it,  that  yet  combine  themselves  with  it.  The 
spiritual  nature  must  be  unfolded  and  exercised  upon  suitable 
objects  of  thought,  affection,  desire,  hope.  These  it  do6s  not 
find  in  human  society,  nor  among  sensible  things.  They  are 
revealed  and  embraced  tlirough  faith.  By  this,  man  is  intro- 
duced to  a  new  society,  and  to  the  knowledge  of  higher  re- 
lations than  those  of  time.      As  he  becomes  more  conversant 


CONSCIOUSNESS  OF  SPIRITUAL  LIFE,       451 

with  the  beings  and  hopes  of  a  spiritual  world,  their  relative 
importance  grows  in  his  estimation.  His  affections  fasten  them- 
selves with  strength  on  worthy  objects.  He  perceives  that  he 
stands  in  the  midst  of  infinite  relations.  There  is  a  light  within 
him  brighter  than  the  rays  of  the  sun,  and  in  this  light  he 
beholds  spiritual  and  everlasting  things. 

Faith,  I  say,  introduces  him  to  this  new  world.  Now  faith 
rests  on  various  kinds  of  evidence,  and  extends  its  vision  over 
circles  of  various  dimensions.  In  its  nature  it  is  simple,  a  single 
act  of  the  mind,  belief.  There  is  no  mystery  in  faith :  nothing 
is  more  intelligible.  It  is  a  persuasion  of  the  truth  of  certain 
facts,  past,  present,  or  prospective,  with  which  our  senses  do  not 
make  us  acquainted.  It  is  through  faith,  historical  faith,  that  I 
know  that  Jesus  Christ  lived  and  died  and  rose  again.  It  is 
through  fiiith,  religious  faith,  that  I  know  that  I  shall  live  hereafter 
and  experience  a  righteous  retribution.  Christian  faith  is  a  belief 
of  Christian  truths.  The  end  of  Christianity,  to  which  all  its  truths 
and  jDrecepts  are  subservient,  is  the  preparation  of  the  human  soul 
for  a  future  life  ;  and  this  end  it  effects  by  calling  the  soul,  during 
its  residence  in  the  body,  at  once  to  an  anticipation  and  a  partici- 
pation of  this  life.  Christianity  is  thus  a  religion  of  faith  and  of 
experience.  Faith  brings  the  human  being  to  the  knowledge  of 
certain  relations,  to  which  he  is  now,  and  will  hereafter  be,  subject ; 
and,  as  this  knowledge  becomes  the  motive  and  rule  of  character, 
faith  is  converted  into  experience.  As  the  student  of  art,  first 
believing  on  the  testimony  of  others  that  there  are  sources  of 
beauty  and  delight  which  he  may  unseal,  gives  himself  with  con- 
fidence to  his  profession,  till  his  mind,  kindled  into  sympathy 
with  the  genius  which  has  expressed  its  conceptions  in  such 
glorious  forms,  is  taught  by  its  own  emotions  the  truth  that  it 
before  received  through  faith.  Assent  becomes  knowledsje,  ex- 
perience,  enthusiasm. 

Having  thus  glanced  at  the  origin  and  support  of  the  spiritual 
life,  let  me  enlarge  on  its  nature  and  excellence.  The  man  who 
is  conscious  of  it  dwells  in  the  midst  of  thou<?hts  and  feeliui's 
which  are  not  born  of  flesh,  nor  earth,  nor  the  will  of  man.     He 


452  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

regards  this  inward  life  as  far  more  important  than  that  which 
connects  him  with  an  ever-changing  world.  The  things  of  reli- 
gion are  to  him  realities,  not  distant  and  visionary,  but  present 
and  substantial.  His  soul  is  familiar  with  spiritual  images  and 
associations,  and  they  impress  him  as  the  circumstances  of  exter- 
nal condition  impress  other  men.  He  lives  with  God,  nigh  to 
Him,  in  communion  and  an  humble  sympathy  with  Him.  To  him 
God,  though  an  infinite,  is  an  individual  being ;  though  incompre- 
hensible by  his  understanding,  yet  embraced  by  his  affections. 
His  piety  is  nourished  by  every  moment's  experience  of  the 
Divine  goodness ;  for  he  is  so  habituated  to  the  contemplation  of 
God  that  he  sees  His  image,  as  it  were,  reflected  from  all  His 
works  and  all  the  aspects  of  His  Providence.  His  own  soul  is 
the  temple  in  which  he  perceives  the  glory  of  the  Most  High ; 
and  it  is  to  him  far  more  sacred,  consecrated  by  a  deeper  as  well 
as  a  more  rational  reverence,  than  was  the  Holy  of  Holies  to  the 
ancient  Jew.  Devotion  is  in  him  at  once  a  sentiment,  a  taste, 
and  a  habit.     God  dwells  in  him,  and  he  in  God. 

He  feels  also  a  personal  relation  between  himself  and  the  Lord 
Christ  Jesus.  This  friend,  benefactor.  Saviour,  sustains  these 
offices  not  only  to  the  body  of  his  disciples,  but  to  this  one  dis- 
ciple Jesus  is  regarded  as  his  Master  and  Redeemer,  to  whom  he  is 
united,  in  the  language  of  Christ  himself,  as  the  branch  to  the  vine, 
drawing  thence  the  nutriment  which  diffuses  strength  throughout 
his  character  and  clothes  it  with  beauty.  He  considers  himself 
likewise  allied  to  orders  of  intelligence,  that  rise  above  him  in 
successive  gradations  towards  the  Infinite  Father.  The  universe 
is  full  of  spiritual  life.  He  sympathizes  with  the  universe.  His 
imagination,  trained  to  its  early  flights  by  faith,  soars  beyond  the 
limits  of  time  and  ethereal  space.  The  creation  is  his  home.  The 
influence  of  God  is  felt  everywhere,  and  wherever  this  is  he  finds 
something  to  which  he  is  attracted.  Saints  and  angels  and  all 
ministering  spirits  constitute  one  brotherhood,  in  which  he  is 
embraced.  With  the  conviction  of  this  alliance,  he  is  armed  with 
a  power  over  evil,  he  scorns  low  associates  and  impure  pleasures ; 
for  he  belongs  to  a  society  into  which  are  gathered  the  good  of 


CONSCIOUSNESS  OF  SPIRITUAL  LIFE.       453 

all  worlds  and  ases.  Tell  him  of  heaven  ?  He  carries  within 
himself  a  better  picture  of  heaven  than  words  can  ever  delineate. 
A  picture  of  heaven,  did  I  say  ?  He  is  in  heaven  even  now.  He 
is  with  God  and  Christ  and  holy  spirits,  and  what  other  heaven 
can  eternity  unveil  ? 

There  are  other  objects  of  interest  in  the  spiritual  world  than 
the  beings  who  inhabit  and  constitute  its  glory.  Truth  and 
virtue,  perfection  and  felicity,  are  treasured  there ;  and  for  these 
the  Christian  seeks.  He  hungers  and  thirsts  after  righteousness 
with  spiritual  appetites  that  he  can  never  indulge  to  excess. 
And  he  shall  be  filled ;  but  his  desire  and  capacity  grow  with 
the  supply.  He  is  continually  aspiring  to  something  better 
than  he  has  yet  reached.  It  is  a  holy  ambition.  He  is  ever 
craving  more  riches,  the  riches  of  a  sanctified  intellect  and  a 
devout  heart.  Infinity  is  before  him,  and  he  would  penetrate  its 
depths  as  far  as  a  finite  nature  may  pursue  its  course.  His  soul 
is  therefore  animated  with  celestial  hopes,  which  he  knows  can- 
not disappoint  nor  mislead  him.  His  mind  is  ever  active 
among  holy  thoughts.  The  perfections  of  the  Deity,  the  excel- 
lences of  our  Lord's  character,  the  capacities  of  the  human  soul, 
the  influences  and  promises  of  religion,  open  to  him  unnumbered 
paths  of  meditation.  He  can  never  be  idle  and  never  weary  ; 
for  his  heart  is  in  his  employment.  He  loves  religion,  and  it 
rewards  him  with  a  happiness  which  earth  can  neither  give  nor 
take  away. 

Another  peculiar  property  of  this  life  remains  to  be  described. 
The  Christian  is  conscious  of  immortality.  I  beg  you  to  receive 
this  declaration  literally.  He  not  only  expects  to  enter  on  a 
conscious  existence  after  death,  but  he  so  intimately  blends  the 
two  states  that  they  seem  to  him  to  constitute  but  one.  Hence 
I  say  that  he  is  conscious  of  immortality.  He  more  than  antici- 
pates it,  he  already  enjoys  it.  In  the  apprehensions  of  most 
persons,  the  life  that  now  is,  and  the  life  that  is  to  come,  are  two 
distinct  and  vastly  dissimilar  modes  of  existence.  Not  so  with 
him  who  lives  through  faith.  He  regards  the  future  as  the  con- 
tinuation  of  the  present,  and   death  the  line,  the   gate  which 


454  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

separates  them.  This  line  must  be  crossed,  this  gate  be  passed  ; 
but  the  domain  which  lies  beyond  will,  in  its  essential  character- 
istics, correspond  with  that  in  which  the  child  of  God  preferred 
to  dwell  while  on  earth.  This  idea  of  the  coincidence  of  the 
spiritual  life  here  and  hereafter  cannot  be  too  strongly  pressed. 
Eternal  life  is  a  present  possession,  not  an  expected  good.  He 
that  entertains  this  persuasion  is  delivered  from  the  bondage  in 
which  men  are  held  through  fear  of  death,  — 

"  What  cause  for  fear 
Of  death,  when  this  same  death  we  die 
Is  life  continuous,  and  to  die 
Is  but  to  live  immortally '?  " 

The  man  who  cherishes  this  conviction  is  always  inquiring 
what  effect  his  conduct  will  have  upon  his  interior  life.  There 
is  no  one  so  watchful  as  he  to  preserve  himself  unspotted  from 
the  evil  that  is  in  the  world,  since  his  spiritual  senses  would  be 
darkened  and  blunted  by  sin.  His  conscience  is  a  moral  micro- 
scope by  which  the  presence  of  folly  is  discerned  where  it 
assumes  its  most  minute  shapes.  His  tastes  and  sympathies 
choose  whatever  is  noble  and  pure  and  is  assimilated  to  the 
divine.  He  is  always  accumulating  stores  of  heavenly  wisdom 
and  felicity.  He  is  perpetually  advancing  in  the  way  of  salva- 
tion ;  forgetting  the  things  that  are  behind,  and  reaching  forth 
unto  those  which  are  before,  he  presses  towards  the  prize  of  his 
high  calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus.  This  goal  is  perfection, 
never  to  be  reached,  yet  a  progressive  approach  to  which  is  the 
noblest  employment  and  the  only  true  happiness  of  the  soul. 
What  a  glorious  capacity  is  this,  of  everlasting  improvement! 
What  an  energy  is  possessed  by  the  soul  that  is  conscious  of  its 
impulses  !  How  lightly  does  it  esteem  labor  and  obstacle !  Its 
course  is  ever  upward.  Press  on,  press  on,  is  its  unceasing  com- 
mand to  itself.  It  turns  difficulty  into  an  occasion  of  triumph, 
gathers  strength  from  combat,  fixes  its  view  ever  on  the  most 
distant  point,  and  obeying  the  will  of  God  revealed  in  its  capacity 
of  indefinite  progress,  it  rejoices  amidst  adversities  and  conflicts 


CONSCIOUSNESS   OF  SPIRITUAL  LIFE.       455 

and  temptations,  seeing  that  by  suffering  it  is  purified  as  the 
precious  metal  in  the  furnace,  and  is  prepared  for  other  degrees 
of  spiritual  life  in  the  mansions  of  the  blest. 

The  doctrine  of  this  discourse  is  a  key  to  much  of  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Christian  Scriptures,  and  unlocks  the  meaning  of 
many  j)assages  that  are  often  thought  difficult.  Such  are  those 
which  represent  the  union  that  exists  between  the  believer  and  his 
Saviour  and  his  God.  "  If  any  man  love  me,"  said  Jesus,  "  he 
will  keep  my  words,  and  my  Father  will  love  him,  and  we 
will  come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him."  "  As  thou 
Father  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they  also  may  be  one  in 
us."  "Your  life,"  wrote  the  apostle  Paul  to  the  Colossian 
brethren,  —  "  your  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God  "  "  The  life  which 
I  now  live  in  the  flesh,"  says  the  same  apostle,  "  I  live  by  the 
faith  of  the  Son  of  God."  Of  a  similar  import  are  those  clauses 
which  suggest,  if  they  do  not  convey,  the  doctrine  of  the  Chris- 
tian's entrance  on  eternal  life,  while  he  is  yet  in  the  body.  "  He 
that  heareth  my  word,"  exclaimed  the  Author  and  Finisher  of 
our  faith,  "  is  passed  from  death  unto  life."  "  These  things,"  says 
the  apostle  John,  "  have  1  written  unto  you  that  believe  on  the 
name  of  the  Son  of  God,  that  ye  may  know  that  ye  have  eternal 
life." 

In  a  like  manner.  Christians  are  said  to  be  crucified  and  to  rise 
with  Christ.  No  term  could  more  happily  express  the  effect  of 
Christian  faith  upon  a  mind  which  had  been  buried  in  spiritual 
darkness  than  the  resurrection.  It  was  an  awaking  to  the  con- 
sciousness of  a  new  life.  Thus  Paul  reasons,  "If  we  have  been 
planted  together  in  the  likeness  of  his  death,  we  shall  be  also 
in  the  likeness  of  his  resurrection."  That  much  vexed  phrase 
*'  being  born  again  "  may  in  our  age  be  adopted  in  a  more  literal 
sense  than  that  in  which  our  Lord  employed  it,  in  conformity 
with  the  popular  diction  of  the  Jews.  May  it  not  be  f-aid, 
almost  without  a  figure,  that  a  man  enters  on  a  second  life  when 
he  begins  to  feel  the  relations  which  bind  him  to  God  and  eter- 
nity? What  a  new  character  has  his  own  existence  assumed! 
How  differently  do  all  things  appear  to  him  !     The  change  which 


456  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

would  be  wrought  by  converting  a  barbarian  into  an  inmate  of 
refined  society  is  not  so  great  as  that  of  which  he  is  conscious, 
who  has  led  a  vicious  or  worldly  life,  and  is  made  to  contemplate 
himself  in  the  light  in  which  he  is  regarded  by  the  Omniscient 
Judge,  as  an  immortal  and  accountable  creature.  I  doubt  whether, 
in  the  extent  of  God's  government,  there  be  any  change  that 
approaches  so  nearly  to  a  new  creation,  a  new  life,  as  that  which 
occurs  in  one  who,  having  for  years  been  insensible  to  God  and 
duty,  is  awakened  to  the  perception  of  them.  Such  a  rush  of 
strange  ideas  and  feelings  into  his  soul,  such  a  crowd  of  fears 
and  hopes  hitherto  unknown,  such  a  burst  of  light  to  which 
his  moral  vision  is  not  accommodated !  God  have  mercy  on  him, 
and  help  him  in  that  hour  when  conviction  of  spiritual  truths 
comes  like  a  torrent,  to  sweep  away  old  associations  and  to 
turn  the  thoughts  into  new  channels !  God  guide  him  to  life 
and  peace  ! 

Indeed,  I  detect  this  doctrine  in  every  part  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, running  through  it  as  a  vein,  to  guide  our  researches  in  this 
mine  of  divine  instruction.  I  perceive  it  veiled  under  the  terms 
in  which  the  office  of  Christ  is  described  by  the  evangelist  before 
he  begins  his  narrative.  "To  as  many  as  received  him,  he 
gave  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God,  to  them  that  believe  on 
his  name,  who  were  born  of  God."  I  hear  it  proclaimed  among 
the  first  words  which  our  Lord  uttered  after  he  commenced  his 
ministry,  "  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God.'* 
I  welcome  it  again  in  his  discourses  with  the  people,  and  in  his 
conversations  with  his  disciples  in  language  which  I  need  not 
repeat.  It  greets  me  again,  as  I  examine  the  pages  indited  by 
apostles  of  the  Lord.  I  am  constantly  taught  that  the  Christian 
is  partaker  and  guardian  of  an  inward  life,  that  heaven  begins 
on  earth,  that  the  essence  of  religion  is  an  obedience  of  the  soul 
to  those  convictions  which  originate  in  faith.  The  doctrine  is  a 
reasonable  one,  my  own  nature  responds  to  its  truth,  I  gladly 
receive  and  would  habitually  recognize  it. 

It  is  often  said  that  such  views  as  have  now  been  offered  are 
mystical  and  useless :  Religion  should  be  intelligible  and  prac- 


CONSCIOUSNESS  OF  SPIRITUAL  LIFE.       457 

tical.  Certainly  it  should.  But  this  charge  of  mysticism,  as  it 
is  the  most  easily  made,  is  in  general  urged  with  less  pertinency 
than  almost  any  other.  When  men  dislike  what  they  understand 
of  a  doctrine,  or  from  indolence  or  prejudice  are  indisposed  to 
its  examination,  it  is  very  convenient  to  retire  behind  the  cry 
of  mysticism  and  the  adage  that  religion  is  a  practical  matter. 
Now  let  this  subject  be  studied  candidly,  and  it  will  appear  to  be 
clothed  in  no  peculiar  mystery  either  of  ideas  or  of  words.  It  is 
as  simple  and  as  rational  as  the  command  to  love  the  Lord  our 
God.  The  truth  that  religion  consists  in  a  consciousness  of 
spiritual  relations,  and  an  habitual  regard  to  them,  is  singularly 
practical,  since  it  touches  and  sanctifies  every  circumstance  of 
the  exterior  life.  It  links  the  future  to  the  present  by  such 
intimate  dependences  that  it  might  almost  be  said  to  spiritualize 
humanity  and  immortalize  time.  It  brings  the  whole  of  our 
social  condition  under  the  cognizance  of  a  law,  which,  proceeding 
from  God,  embraces  the  present  and  the  future  in  one  band,  on 
which  is  inscribed,  in  letters  that  glow  before  the  spiritual  eye, 
the  awful  word  Retribution.  The  sense  of  the  relations  which 
we  hold  to  the  Creator  gives  a  just  and  solemn  interest  to  every 
event,  however  brief  or  trivial  in  its  nature.  Its  consequences 
are  combined  with  infinite  results. 

Under  another  aspect  may  the  practical  character  of  this  doc- 
trine be  seen.  It  explains  the  purpose  of  moral  discipline,  and 
solves  that  enigma  which  so  long  perplexed  Pagan  philosophy, 
the  existence  of  evil  in  the  world.  It  convinces  us  that  God 
does  not  afflict  nor  grieve  us  but  for  our  good,  that  we  may 
be  prepared  for  the  joys  of  a  future  being.  It  reconciles  us  to 
trouble,  by  showing  its  salutary  influence  on  character  and  its 
power  of  expanding  the  purity  and  strength  of  the  soul.  Of 
disappointment,  it  tells  us  that  it  is  sent  — 

"  To  minister  to  those  who  are  designed 
Salvation's  heirs;  commissioned  from  on  high 
To  chase  the  vagrant  Hope,  that,  like  the  dove, 
Flies  o'er  the  troubled  waters  of  this  world 
And  finds  no  rest ;  to  plant  its  cloudy  form 
On  every  smiling  spot  that  lures  her  on, 
Till,  taught  by  this  she  has  no  home  on  earth, 


458  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

Hope  to  the  eternal  Rock  of  Ages  looks, 
And  settles  there." 

Ought  a  doctrine  from  which  such  wisdom  and  consolation 
flow  to  be  stigmatized  as  destitute  of  practical  utility  ? 

Brethren,  bear  with  me,  while  I  add  a  word  of  personal  exhor- 
tation. Is  the  spiritual  life  developed  in  us  ?  Are  its  functions 
performed  sluggishly,  or  freely  and  effectively  ?  This  inquiry 
it  would  be  wise  in  us  to  answer  before  our  consciences.  It  em- 
braces our  highest,  our  everlasting  welfare.  The  responsibleness 
under  which  we  lie  cannot  be  described  in  words  nor  measured 
by  thought.  Its  limits  are  hidden  in  the  depths  of  the  unfathom- 
able future.  God  is  inviting  us  to  His  love.  Christ  died  that 
he  might  show  us  the  way,  our  own  souls  are  crying  to  us  for 
the  satisfaction  of  their  natural  wants.  All,  as  if  with  one  voice, 
enjoin  on  us  that  we  be  spiritually  minded.  If  we  are  faithless, 
we  betray  ourselves,  we  forfeit  heaven,  we  fall  from  eternal  life. 
Misery  and  folly  too  great  for  language  to  depict !  If  we  believe 
and  obey,  we  secure  a  happiness  that  makes  us  the  rivals  of 
angels.  He  who  abides  in  God  is  secure  against  loss  and  harm. 
The  principle  of  spiritual  life  evades  the  touch  of  disease.  Sin 
alone  can  prostrate  or  impair  its  energies.  It  incorporates  itself 
with  the  soul,  and  passes  with  it  unharmed  through  the  gates  of 
death.  Ah,  ineffable  is  the  bliss  of  that  intercourse  which  the 
soul  enjoys  with  its  Author,  when  God  is  known  not  through 
reason  nor  through  fiiith,  but  through  love !  This  is  the  pledge 
and  foretaste  of  the  joy  which  awaits  glorified  saints  hereafter. 


1859-1860. 


THE   SOUL'S  SALVATION  THROUGH  FAITH  IN 
CHRIST. 

John  iv.  14  :  "  The  water  that  I  shall  give  him  shall  be  in  him  a  well  of 
water  springing  up  into  everlasting  life.'* 

1  Peter  i.  9  :  "  Receiving  the  end  of  your  faith,  even  the  salvation  of  your 
souls." 

To  a  poor,  ignorant,  half-heathen  woman  whom  he  met  now 
for  the  first  time,  and  whom,  after  leaving  that  part  of  the  coun- 


SALVATION  THROUGH  CHRIST.  459 

try,  he  probably  would  never  see  again,  we  find  Jesus  speaking 
of  the  innermost  experience  of  the  soul,  its  deepest  need  and  its 
holiest  satisfaction.  Is  not  this  a  significant  fact  ?  Does  it  not 
show  us  that  Christ  saw  in  every  one  a  nature  capable  of  recog- 
nizing its  own  spiritual  wants  and  of  appreciating  the  supply  of 
those  wants  which  he  would  furnish  ?  And  does  not  his  lansua^e 
remind  us  of  that  property  of  his  truth  by  which  it  penetrates 
and  sanctifies  the  private  consciousness  ?  *'  The  water  that  I 
shall  give  him  shall  be  in  him."  In  him ;  or  a  personal  experi- 
ence, a  secret  action,  a  consciousness  attesting  the  adaptaljion  of 
this  new  agent  to  the  soul's  wants. 

The  religious  wants  of  our  nature  are  as  real  as  its  mental  or 
moral  wants,  although  moral  men  are  often  inclined  to  discredit 
them.  We  may,  however,  bring  the  question  to  the  test  of  ex- 
perience. Men,  women,  the  old,  the  young,  do  feel  a  want,  a 
dissatisfaction,  a  discord  in  themselves,  which  they  but  partly 
comprehend.  There  is  a  sense  now  of  unsatisfied  desire,  now  of 
unrelieved  pain,  with  which  we  are  familiar.  In  some  bosoms  it  is 
an  uneasy  discontent  with  themselves  and  with  circumstances.  In 
some  a  vague  apprehension  and  an  equally  indistinct  hope.  While 
in  other  hearts  it  amounts  to  positive  self-reproac-h,  a  sense  of  guilt, 
a  dread  of  the  future,  the  recognition  of  an  ill-spent  past  and  a 
judgment  unprepared  for.  The  secret  history  of  many  persons 
includes  yet  more,  —  struggles,  conflicts,  misgivings,  rallyings,  dis- 
couragement, infirmity  of  purpose,  vacillation,  debatings  with  one's 
self,  half-prayers,  half-victories,  nothing  complete,  nothing  satisfac- 
tory. All  these  forms  of  experience  belong  to  a  consciousness 
lower  down  in  our  nature  than  that  which  is  reached  by  social  in- 
tercourse, —  a  consciousness  altogether  personal,  private,  secret, 
known  only  to  the  Searcher  of  hearts,  and  intended  doubtless  to 
produce  very  intimate  relations  between  our  hearts  and  Him. 
This  experience  —  this  lowest  stratum  of  consciousness,  if  I  may 
so  describe  it,  this  innermost  realization  of  self —  Christ  addresses 
now,  as  he  did  almost  two  thousand  years  ago,  when  he  said : 
"The  water  that  I  shall  give  shall  be  a  fountain  in  the  soul 
springing  up  into  everlasting  life." 


460  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

It  is  in  this  consciousness  that  we  must  lay  the  foundations 
of  a  relij^'ous  character.  "What  is  religion  ?  Uprightness,  con- 
scientiousness, usefulness?  Partly,  but  not  cliiefly  nor  primarily. 
Men  may  lead  useful  and  irreproachable  lives,  and  not  be  relig- 
ious. Religion  connects  us  with  the  Unseen.  Theoretically,  it 
is  the  bond  by  which  the  soul  is  held  to  an  Invisible  and  Infinite 
Presence :  practically,  it  is  the  recognition  of  that  bond  by  the 
soul.  Piety,  therefore,  is  the  essential  part  of  religion.  Faith  in 
God  as  an  active  principle,  a  ruling  sentiment,  an  immediate 
satisfaction,  and  a  prophetic  assurance,  constitutes  personal  relig- 
ion. Such  a  faith,  —  i.e.  a  faith  in  God  that  habitually  influences 
one,  guiding,  controlling,  satisfying,  and  sustaining  the  human 
being ;  making  him  devout,  and  conscientious  because  he  is  de- 
vout ;  making  him  pious,  and  happy  because  he  is  pious  ;  making 
him  religions,  and,  because  he  is  religious,  useful,  —  such  a  faith, 
the  basis  and  the  strength  of  character,  the  inspiration  and  the 
law  of  life,  is  not  cherished,  we  have  reason  to  fear,  by  the 
greater  number  of  decent,  orderly,  estimable  people.  People  of 
this  class  are  good  —  i.e.  they  do  right  and  try  to  keep  themselves 
right  —  from  various  motives,  some  honorable,  some  equivocal; 
from  a  regard  to  opinion,  reputation,  success  in  life;  from  what 
is  called  a  sense  of  character,  which  means  a  preference  of  that 
which  is  just  and  pure  over  that  which  is  vulgar  or  base  ;  from  a 
conviction  that  personal  injury  must  always  be  a  consequence  of 
wrong-doing.  To  give  to  motives  higher  than  these  the  influ- 
ence to  which  they  are  entitled ;  to  awaken  in  the  soul  a  con- 
sciousness of  delightful  relations  with  the  Eternal  Spirit;  to 
reveal  to  man  the  unexplored  depths  of  his  own  nature ;  and  to 
make  him  independent  of  all  external  circumstances  by  developing 
an  internal  life  of  which  God  should  be  not  only  the  primal 
cause,  but  the  final  end,  —  were  the  great  purposes  of  the  Saviour's 
mission.  .  .  . 

No  one  can  read  the  New  Testament  and  mistake  the  pur- 
pose which  Christ  had  primarily  in  view.  The  truths  which  he 
unfolded,  the  precepts  which  he  delivered,  his  counsels,  warnings, 
promises,  were  addressed  to  the  private  consciousness.     Faith  in 


SALVATION  THROUGH  CHRIST.  461 

God  he  makes  to  be  personal ;  obedience,  personal ;  worship,  a 
spiritual  act ;  repentance,  an  interior  exercise ;  peace,  the  heart's 
contentment  with  itself.  Christ  came  to  be  a  mediator,  not 
between  the  race  and  its  Sovereign,  but  between  the  soul  and  its 
Author.  He  came  to  bless  the  world,  by  blessing,  in  the  first 
instance,  this  and  that  one  of  those  who  make  up  the  world. 
To  regard  the  establishment  of  a  universal  religion  as  the  imme- 
diate end  of  Christ's  labors  is  to  overlook  the  means  which  he 
used  for  this  end.  As  a  house  is  built  by  adding  stone  to  stone 
and  timber  to  timber,  so  the  spiritual  temple,  of  which  he  is  at 
once  foundation  and  dome,  the  beginning  and  the  end,  approaches 
its  completion  only  as  the  number  of  disciples  increases  who 
compose  that  "  building  in  the  Lord." 

Equally  plain  is  it  that  Christ  came  to  rescue  man  from  a 
state  of  great  want  and  peril.  Whatever  we  may  think  of  the 
soul's  condition,  he  thought  it  a  condition  that  called  for  help. 
He  represented  the  Father  as  having  sent  him  to  befriend  the 
soul  in  its  exigency.  He  regarded  man  as  suffering  under  the 
evil  of  sin ;  which  he  treated  as  an  internal  malady,  that,  if  not 
cured,  would  be  fatal.  Nothing  can  be  more  distinct  than  his 
own  words :  "  I  am  not  come  to  call  the  righteous,  but  sinners, 
to  repentance."  "  What  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his 
soul?"  he  asked  with  an  emphasis  alike  solemn  and  tender. 
"  What  shall  it  profit  a  man,  if  he  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose 
his  own  soul  ?  "  The  most  startling  and  searching  question, 
this,  that  was  ever  put  before  a  man  to  answer,  be  he  king  or 
beggar,  —  a  question  that,  in  its  very  form,  dishonors  all  out- 
ward differences.  The  whole  world,  with  its  pomp,  wealth,  rank, 
pleasure,  is  as  nothing  in  comparison  with  a  human  soul.  Christ 
saw  the  soul  hastening  to  ruin,  already  involved  in  ruin :  this 
fact  was  enough  for  him.  Sin  was  destroying  man :  that  was 
enough  to  awaken  his  sympathy.  He  entered  into  no  discussion 
respecting  the  origin  of  human  sinfulness.  We  find  in  the  Evan- 
gelists nothing  about  "  native  depravity,"  or  any  theory  in  ex- 
planation of  the  state  to  which  man  had  reduced  himself.  He 
was  a  sinner,  on  the  broad  road  to  destruction :  the  naked  truth 


462  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

needed  nothing  to  increase  its  fearful  meaning.  Christ  sought 
to  afford  relief.  "  The  Son  of  man  is  come,"  he  said,  "  to  save 
that  which  was  lost."  The  sheep  perishing  among  the  bleak 
and  barren  mountains  must  be  brought  back  to  the  fold,  where 
it  will  be  cared  for,  no  matter  by  what  tempted  to  wander  off. 
The  prodigal  son  must  be  induced  to  return  to  his  Father's 
arms,  let  what  may  have  moved  him  to  leave  the  home  of 
plenty  and  peace. 

This  is  the  interpretation  which  I  put  on  Christ's  mission, 
ministry,  gospel,  cross,  purpose,  and  work.  As  I  read  those 
pages  of  evangelic  narrative  and  apostolic  commentary,  one 
truth  seems  to  me  as  clear  as  if  it  were  written  on  the  sky 
in  letters  of  light ;  namely,  that  "  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the 
world  to  save  sinners."  There  were  social  disorders  enough 
in  his  day.  Galilee  was  a  miserably  misgoverned  province ; 
Jerusalem  was  full  of  intrigue,  faction,  and  profligacy.  But 
Jesus  undertook  no  political  revolution,  organized  no  social 
reform,  let  the  external  evils  of  city  and  country  alone ;  while 
he  addressed  himself  to  the  spiritual  darkness  and  corruption 
of  which  the  souls  of  men  were  the  seats.  Repentance  was 
the  key-note  of  his  preaching ;  mercy  for  sinful  man  was  the 
revelation  which  he  sealed  in  his  own  blood.  Christ  lived 
and  died  that  he  might  become  "  the  author  of  eternal  salvation 
unto  all  them  that  obey  him."  The  "  Saviour ! "  That  is  the 
title  which,  above  all  others,  belongs  to  him.  Yes,  above  all 
others;  for  Messiah,  Son  of  God,  Mediator,  and  the  many 
other  titles  which  describe  his  various  relations  to  heaven  or  to 
earth,  pour  their  significance  into  this,  as  that  which  at  once 
needs  and  explains  them  all. 

And  mark,  I  pray  you,  my  hearers,  that  this  is  a  title  which 
Christ  bears  now,  in  reference  to  his  present  influence.  Sin  is 
still  the  universal  disease;  in  all  of  us  a  taint  that  must  be 
eradicated  before  we  can  possess  a  pure  and  noble  character. 
Whatever  Christ  came  to  be  to  the  men  of  his  time,  he  should  be 
to  us.  Whatever  his  religion  offered  to  them  as  needed  by 
them,  it  offers  to  us  as  needed  by  us.     Whatever  his  cross  re- 


SALVATION   THROUGH  CHRIST.  ^  463 

vealed  or  sealed  to  them,  it  reveals  or  seals  to  us.  His  blood 
was  "shed  for  many  for  the  remission  of  sins."  That  word 
"  many  "  takes  in  all  generations  and  all  people.  Christ  "  our 
Saviour ;  "  that  is  proper  language  for  us  to  use.  IIow  suitable  ! 
let  them  say,  who,  by  his  instruction  and  persuasion,  have  been 
brought  out  of  the  bondage  of  sinful  habits,  and  are  conscious  of 
a  liberty  enjoyed  only  by  those  whom  he  has  made  sons  and  heirs 
of  God. 

We  may  abridge  the  meaning  of  salvation,  not  only  by  giving 
it  a  merely  historical  value,  but  by  unduly  limiting  its  moral 
import.  The  familiar  use  of  the  word  is  an  example  of  this 
error.  Salvation  is  the  name  commonly  given  to  the  initial  state 
of  the  believer,  instead  of  covering,  as  it  should,  his  whole  expe- 
rience, from  the  first  act  of  faith  to  the  last  moment  of  earthly 
consciousness.  The  sinner  we  hear  spoken  of  as  "  saved,"  when 
snatched  from  the  ruin  on  the  brink  of  which  he  was  standing. 
But  the  soul  needs  to  be  saved,  or  delivered  from  its  perils 
and  infirmities,  as  long  a^  it  continues  to  sin.  Until  the  mind 
ceases  to  make  an  evil  choice,  or  the  heart  to  cherish  a  wrong 
desire,  the  work  of  salvation  is  not  finished.  The  converted 
man  will  be  all  the  time  getting  more  salvation, —  that  is, 
more  deliverance  from  false  judgments,  wrong  tempers,  and 
sinful  tendencies ;  and  only  in  another  world,  where  he  shall 
begin  a  sinless  life,  will  he  experience  full  salvation.  Salva- 
tion means  much  more  than  an  escape  from  either  outward  or 
inward  suffering.  It  means  security,  moral  integrity,  spiritual 
wholeness.  The  word,  therefore,  instead  of  expressing  only  the 
effect  of  Christ's  influence  in  the  earlier  stages  of  spiritual  growth, 
describes  his  connection  with  the  soul  through  the  whole  of  its 
present  discipline  ;  and,  more  than  any  other  term,  indicates  the 
extent  of  the  soul's  obligation  to  him.  .  .  . 

It  may  be  asked  how  Christ  becomes  the  author  of  such  an 
experience.  Different  replies  would  be  given,  —  replies  that  might 
seem  to  invalidate,  if  not  contradict,  one  another.  From  one 
quarter  the  inquirer  might  be  told  that  Christ's  teaching  leads  the 
soul  out  of  its  blindness  into  the  light  of  the  Divine  countenance, 


464  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

which  is  equivalent  to  the  communication  of  a  new  life ;  from 
another  quarter,  that  it  is  the  character ;  or  from  a  third,  that 
it  is  the  death  of  Christ,  which  touches  dormant  sensibilities 
and  rouses  a  dull  conscience.  Some  may  say  that  it  is  a  doc- 
trine concerning  the  person  of  Christ  or  the  Divine  nature  which 
conceals  within  its  mysteries  the  quickening  and  comforting 
resources  of  truth,  to  be  enjoyed  only  by  those  who  accept  the 
doctrine  as  a  symbolic  expression  of  Christianity. 

For  us,  my  friends,  it  is  sufficient  to  know  Christ  as  the  channel 
and  manifestation  of  a  Divine  influence,  by  which  the  believer 
is  so  instructed,  animated,  enriched,  and  fortified,  that  he  becomes 
conscious  of  a  new  experience  working  in  him  to  disclose  un- 
known capacities  of  life,  and  through  this  inward  change  spread- 
ing a  new  aspect  over  life  as  it  lies  around  him.  To  one  who 
has  observed  the  effect  of  any  fresh  and  important  truth,  scientific 
or  practical,  in  giving  a  direction  to  the  thoughts  and  an  im- 
pulse to  the  character,  it  will  not  appear  difficult  of  explana- 
tion that  the  truths  which  Christ  has  revealed  respecting  the 
Divine  Being,  the  immortality  of  man,  the  moral  exposures  and 
spiritual  relations  in  which  man  is  immersed,  and  the  means  of 
recovery  from  imminent  peril,  should  act  as  forces  to  inspire 
and  sustain  a  consciousness  as  different  from  that  of  which  either 
worldliness  or  morality  is  the  type  as  heaven  from  earth.  Let 
any  one  entirely  and  heartily  believe  all  that  the  New  Testament 
teaches  in  regard  to  the  mission,  office,  and  gospel  of  Jesus,  he 
shall  "  obtain  the  end  of  his  faith,  even  the  salvation  of  his  soul," 
with  as  absolute  certainty  as  the  introduction  of  the  physical 
agencies  of  heat  and  electricity  will  work  a  change  in  any  mate- 
rial substance.  The  depths  of  human  consciousness  shall  be 
sounded,  the  heights  of  a  divine  experience  shall  be  scaled,  the 
soul  shall  become  a  mirror  of  the  universe,  and  the  universe 
shall  be  an  ever  unfolding  testimony  concerning  Him  of  whose 
prolific  will  it  is  the  result.  .  .  . 

We  are  saved  by  faith  in  Christ.  I  say,  faith  in  Christ :  not 
simply  in  his  religion,  which  will  follow,  of  course.  The  gospel 
consists  partly  in  the  fact  that  a  special  arrangement  was  made 


SALVATION  THROUGH  CHRIST.  465 

by  God,  through  the  mission  and  mediation  of  His  Son,  for  the 
salvation  of  sinnei^.  This  conclusive  proof  of  the  Divine  love  gives 
to  the  religion  of  Christ  the  character  of  a  "gospel,"  or  good 
tidings,  grateful  intelligence.  The  miraculously  attested  mission 
of  Christ  is  not  merely  the  support  of  the  gosj^el,  but  an  intimate 
portion  of  it.  We  are  saved  by  faith  in  Christ,  because  we 
receive  the  truth  communicated  by  him  as  alike  authoritative 
and  gracious  ;  because  we  follow  his  counsel,  trusting  in  its 
heavenly  character ;  because  we  commit  ourselves  to  him  as 
Teacher  and  Master,  Guide  and  Friend ;  because,  in  obedience 
to  his  instruction,  we  adopt  new  habits  of  thought,  feeling, 
and  action  ;  and  because,  through  gratitude  for  the  love  shown 
in  and  by  him,  we  are  led  to  the  most  poignant  sense  of  our 
own  sinfulness  towards  that  Being  whom  we  have  neglected 
or  affronted,  while  He  has  exhibited  such  a  tender  interest  in 
us.  In  other  words,  we  are  saved  by  being  brought  to  repent- 
ance and  to  a  new  life.  Our  hearts  are  humbled,  cleansed, 
chancred.     We  are  turned  from  sin  to  riijhteousness. 

But,  since  much  remains  to  be  done,  Christianity  continues  to 
exert  an  influence  the  effect  of  which  is  seen  in  the  improvement, 
or,  to  use  the  Scriptural  and  more  expressive  word,  in  the  "  sanc- 
tification"  of  the  believer.  In  our  modern  forms  of  speech, 
Christ  becomes  the  author,  first  of  conversion  or  of  awak- 
ening, according  as  the  soul  h;id  sunk  into  depravity  or  into 
moral  lethargy  ;  and  then  of  progress,  as  its  quickened  and  di- 
rected energies  seek  the  perfection  for  which  it  was  made  ;  the 
whole  experience  of  change  and  of  growth  constituting  what  has 
been  styled  "  the  Christian  consciousness,"  —  a  phrase  exposed  to 
the  charge  of  mysticism,  yet  capable  of  being  used  in  a  ti'ue  and 
admirable  sense.  To  produce  this  consciousness  was  the  purpose 
of  Christ's  entrance  into  the  world,  of  his  departure  from  it  by  a 
violent  death,  of  his  reappearance  among  men  after  his  crucifixion, 
and  of  the  various  agencies  which  he  set  in  operation  through  the 
truth  which  he  announced,  the  cross  on  which  he  suffered,  and 
the  kingdom  which  he  established.  It  is  this  consciousness 
which  makes  one  a  Christian  ;  which  verifies  the  words  of  Christ, 

30 


466  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT. 

"  He  that  believeth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he 
live ; "  which  explains  his  language.  "  I  am  the  vine,  ye  are  the 
branches ; "  which  secures  for  the  soul  peace  on  earth,  and 
entitles  it  to  the  anticipation  of  a  glorious  immortality.  This 
consciousness  is  "  salvation  by  faith  ;  "  this  is  personal  religion  ; 
this  is  the  soul's  witness  to  itself  that  it  has  become  a  partaker  of 
Divine  holiness. 

Now  this,  I  repeat,  is  the  essential  thing  in  an  interpreta- 
tion and  use  of  the  gospel,  —  that  it  be  regarded  and  be  re- 
ceived as  the  author  of  a  spiritual  experience,  by  which  the 
believer  shall  translate  the  symbolic  language  of  Heaven  into 
personal  facts  ;  for  all  truth  is  but  symbol  till  it  is  made  per- 
sonal. Christ  must  reign  within  us.  His  title  is  "  Prince 
of  Life;"  and  only  when  his  right  to  this  title  is  confirmed 
by  the  submission  of  our  souls  is  his  appellation  of  "  Saviour  " 
made  to  express  a  reality.  Christ's  "  mediatorial "  work,  on 
its  earthly  side,  is  this  redemptive  work,  or  his  success  in 
raising  human  souls  into  a  new  consciousness.  The  "atone- 
ment "  which  he  accomplishes  consists  in  his  reconciliation 
of  our  hearts  and  wills  to  the  will  of  God.  Whichever  of 
the  many  statements  that  describe  his  relations  to  man  we  may 
prefer  as  most  accurate  or  most  nearly  exhaustive,  the  idea  is 
presented  of  an  interior  life^  of  which  he  is  the  occasion. 

And  this  idea  harmonizes  with  that  teaching  of  our  Lord,  which 
has  been  thought  to  constitute  one  of  its  peculiar  features,  if  not 
the  most  peculiar.  Christ  spoke  of  feelings,  motives,  principles, 
habits  of  thought,  rather  than  of  overt  acts.  The  beatitudes  are 
a  compend  of  his  religion.  What  are  they  but  formulas  of  the 
soul  ?  "  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,"  "  the  poor  in  spirit," 
"  the  meek,"  "  they  who  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness." 
The*  commandments  which  he  pronounced  chief  of  all  enjoined 
love  to  God  and  love  to  man,  dispositions,  states  of  the  heart, 
habits  of  the  interior  life.  Do  the  Epistles  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment offer  us  an  exposition  of  Christianity  different  from  this  ? 
Nowhere.  Paul  and  James  agree  with  one  another,  and  both 
with   Christ.      Paul  says,  Not  ritual  service  nor  conventional 


SALVATION  THROUGH  CHRIST,  467 

piety,  but  religious  sentiment,  penetrating  and  filling  the  soul, 
is  needful ;  which  some  persons  having  understood  as  a  deprecia- 
tion of  external  religion,  James  corrects  their  error  (not  Paul's 
error :  he  had  made  no  mistake,  and  James  does  not  charge  him 
with  any)  by  showing  that  the  proof  of  inward  conviction  and 
sensibility  is  the  discharge  of  positive  duties.  Peter  holds  a  similar 
doctrine  about  godliness.  John  insists  on  love,  a  prevailing  state 
oi'  the  soul,  as  at  once  the  evidence  and  the  security  of  Christian 
discipleship.  From  Matthew  to  Jude,  the  instruction  is  uniform. 
Not  what  we  do  in  itself,  but  what  we  are  (and  what  we  do  as 
the  sign  of  what  we  are)  is  important. 

The  revelations  of  the  gospel  lead  us  to  the  same  conclusion. 
Its  two  most  distinctive  revelations  are  conveyed  to  us  through 
the  Christian  doctrines  respecting  mercy  and  the  Spirit.  I  mean 
not  to  undervalue  its  annunciation  of  "  the  Father,"  or  its  assur- 
ance of  immortality ;  and  yet  I  say,  that  in  its  exhibition  of  the 
Divine  mercy,  and  in  its  promise  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  it  has  pro- 
nounced its  own  character  with  the  most  emphasis.  For,  to 
sinful  man,  what  is  immortality  but  the  menace  of  a  fearful  retri- 
bution, unless  it  be  joined  with  forgiveness,  which  mercy  alone 
can  bestow  ?  and  of  what  avail  is  a  knowledge  of  God  as  our 
Father,  if  it  do  not  establish  a  nearness  between  our  souls  and 
him,  of  which  we  find  both  the  statement  and  the  method  in  the 
doctrine  of  the  Spirit  ?  As  man's  great  need  is  pardon,  so  his 
great  privilege  is  recipiency.  Christ,  in  his  gospel,  explains  the 
privilege  and  relieves  the  need ;  but,  you  observe,  one  is  a  want, 
the  other  a  capacity,  of  the  soul.  In  its  most  profound  disclosures 
of  truth,  Christianity,  therefore,  addresses  the  innermost  nature 
of  man. 

If  we  turn  now  to  those  exercises  which  indicate  man's  rank 
in  the  scale  of  being,  we  shall  obtain  an  independent  testimony 
to  this  value  and  office  of  the  gospel.  In  these  days,  when  so 
much  is  said  of  the  dignity  of  human  nature,  and  when  pre- 
cision either  of  language  or  of  thought  is  so  little  studied,  it 
may  not  be  improper  to  ask  in  what  this  dignity  consists; 
and  the   true   answer,  I   apprehend,  we   shall  find  to  be  this, 


468  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

—  that  man  is  most  distinguished  by  his  ability  of  spiritual 
communion;  which  is  but  another  name  for  that  faculty  of 
faith  which  it  is  the  purpose  of  the  Gospel  to  call  into  exercise. 
Man's  greatness  does  not  lie  in  his  intellect;  for  conscience 
is  greater :  and  yet  conscience  is  not  his  highest  endowment. 
Above  that,  or  below  it,  as  a  deeper  treasure,  is  the  ability, 
which  he  alone  of  the  creatures  on  earth  possesses,  of  con- 
templating and  loving  God.  To  know  God  is  more  than  to 
know  right ;  to  love  God,  more  than  to  choose  right.  Faith  is 
man's  noblest  faculty,  —  or  function  ;  call  it  which  you  please. 
But  mark  you,  my  hearers,  one  and  all,  it  is  a  function  of  the  soidf 
which  the  scholar  possesses  by  no  stronger  right  than  the  plough- 
boy.  I  am  tired  of  this  incessant  adulation  of  man,  as  if  he  were 
great  in  himself.  He  is  great  in  God ;  and  without  God,  as  the 
inspiration  and  end  of  his  being,  he  is  the  poorest  wreck  that  was 
ever  tossed  on  the  waves  of  existence.  Now  what  says  Christian- 
ity, what  says  Christ,  to  this  human  being  ?  They  say,  "  Awake, 
thou  fool,  and  slow  of  heart !  and  know  "  (not  thyself,  it  was 
heathen  counsel  and  heathen  flattery  which  said  this,  and  no 
more),  — ''  know  thy  God,  that  thou  mayst  know  thyself;  know 
thy  weakness,  that  thou  mayst  know  thy  strength "  (for  the 
Christian  paradox,  my  friends,  is  the  solution  of  life's  mystery, 
— '  when  I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong '  )  ;  "  live  by  faith  now, 
here,  in  this  mortal  life,  that  thou  mayst  live  for  ever."  And  it 
is  when  man  listens  to  such  voices  as  these,  and  bows  himself  in 
prayer,  and  makes  the  Eternal  One  his  trust  and  his  portion, 
that  he  is  great ;  greater  than  La  Place  calculating  the  problems 
of  the  physical  universe,  or  Goethe  in  the  majesty  of  his  genius : 
ay,  the  little  child,  to  whom  is  promised  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
rivalling,  in  the  unconscious  glory  with  which  his  spirit  is  clad, 
the  seraphim  that  walk  the  starry  floor  of  the  skies. 

Once  more :  let  me  call  your  attention  to  the  fact  that  the 
best  part  of  literature  is  that  part  which  nourishes  the  soul. 
The  most  precious  books  in  our  libraries  are  those  which  describe 
or  aid  the  soul's  growth.  Devotional  writings  meet  a  want  felt 
by  all  classes,  just  as  the  Psalms  of  David  enjoy  an  immortal 


SALVATION  THROUGH  CHRIST.  469 

youth.  The  volumes  that  retain  their  popularity  through  gen- 
erations have  the  salt  of  divine  truth  in  them.  The  soul  is  the 
same  in  every  age  :  it  has  the  same  sins  and  infirmities  and 
struggles  now  which  it  had  in  Luther's  day  and  in  St.  Augus- 
tine's ;  and  the  books  that  are  dear  to  the  heart  of  humanity 
treat  of  the  secret  experience  which  is  made  up  of  those  strug- 
gles and  infirmities  and  sins.  The  soul,  too,  that  has  found 
peace,  loves  to  read  of  the  Father's  grace,  and  the  Saviour's 
friendship,  and  the  Holy  Spirit's  consolation.  Bunyan's  allegory 
has  had  fifty  readers  where  Milton's  epic  has  found  one.  Baxter's 
"  Saint's  Rest ; "  Doddridge's  "  Rise  and  Progress  of  Religion  in 
the  Soul "  (happiest  of  titles)  ;  Thomas  a  Kempis's  "  Imitation 
of  Christ ; "  Scougal's  "  Life  of  God  in  the  Soul  of  Man  "  (title 
more  felicitous  even  than  Doddridge's),  —  it  is  such  books  as 
these  that  last  ;  books  in  which  the  soul  finds  its  unspoken  con- 
fessions written  down,  and  its  secret  necessities  anticipated.  The 
only  religion  that  can  survive  social  changes,  and  never  be  out- 
grown by  intellectual  culture,  is  a  religion  that  shall  recognize 
these  necessities  and  respond  to  these  confessions  ;  such  a  religion 
as  we  find  in  the  New  Testament,  —  the  religion  of  him  who 
came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners. 

There  is,  doubtless,  danger  of  bestowing  a  disproportionate 
attention  on  the  spiritual  element  in  character.  Man's  tendency 
is  always  to  an  excess  in  one  direction,  that  must  be  balanced 
by  defect  in  another  direction.  But  a  danger  should  make  us 
watchful,  not  drive  us  to  disown  that  in  regard  to  which  extrav- 
agance is  the  only  possible  mistake.  The  probability  of  running 
into  error  is  not  greater  here  than  in  any  other  case  where  one 
form  of  the  religious  experience  is  allowed  to  engross  our  interest. 
Doctrinal  religion,  if  not  qualified  by  other  elements,  becomes 
dogmatism  and  bigotry ;  ceremonial  religion  is  apt  to  degenerate 
into  routine  and  hypocrisy ;  practical  religion,  if  disjoined  from 
piety,  tends  to  self-conceit  or  intellectual  scepticism ;  and  spir- 
itual religion  may  end  in  mysticism.  But  the  last  is  not  the 
greatest  evil  of  the  four.  The  mystics  of  different  ages  have  not 
been  the  worst  Christians.     It  would  not  harm  us,  if  we  were 


470  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

more  fond  of  meditation  and  the  offices  of  the  closet.  It  would 
not  make  us  less  practical  to  be  more  devout,  nor  less  sound  in 
faith  to  be  more  ardent  in  feeling. 

The  truth  is,  that  a  natural  reaction  has  carried  many  per- 
sons towards  an  opposite  extreme  from  that  which  they  wished 
to  avoid.  In  the  weariness  which  some  persons  have  felt  under 
a  continual  inculcation  of  doctrinal  ideas,  they  have  given 
tiiem  selves  up  to  what  they  style  practical  religion ;  forgetting 
that  religious  truth  is  the  only  solid  basis  of  practical  religion. 
We  are  building  on  the  sand,  when  we  build  character  on  any 
thing  less  substantial  than  faith  in  spiritual  realities.  The  pro- 
clivity to  an  exclusively  practical  use  of  the  gospel  has  introduced 
a  style  of  illustrative  instruction,  to  the  neglect  —  at  least,  the 
comparative  neglect  —  of  far-reaching  principles.  To  cite  but  a 
single  example :  because  it  has  seemed  to  us  a  common  fxult  in 
the  pulpit,  while  preaching  against  sin,  to  keep  silence  about 
actual  sins,  have  we  not  become  reprovers  and  assailants  of  sin 
in  detail,  as  if  that  were  enough  ;  plucking  this  leaf,  breaking 
down  tliat  twig,  or  lopping  off  a  branch,  but  not  laying  the  axe 
to  the  root?  The  only  way  to  extirpate  sin  from  the  character 
is  to  remove  the  love  of  sin  from  the  heart.  The  right  method 
is  to  attack  sin,  rather  than  sins  ;  the  vice  of  the  soul,  rather 
than  its  manifestations.  Sin  does  not  lie  in  the  action,  but  in 
the  motive.  The  corrupt  heart  must  be  changed.  A  change  of 
heart,  —  admirable  phrase  !  never  was  there  a  better  one,  —  "a 
change  of  heart "  will  bring  about  a  change  of  life.  Implant  the 
love  of  God  in  the  soul,  and  the  sinner  will  renounce  his  evil- 
doing.  Ingraft  the  believer  into  the  true  vine,  and  he  will  bring 
forth  good  fruit. 

1  am  not  urging  a  return  to  opinions  or  methods  which  were 
wisely  forsaken  by  our  fathers.  I  have  no  love  for  the  bondage 
or  the  "  bread  "  of  Egypt.  It  was  a  noble  service  which  the 
men  of  fifty  and  forty  years  ago  rendered  to  New  England,  and  to 
us  their  children,  when  they  said,  "  We  will  believe  what  tlie 
Bible  teaches,  and  no  more  and  no  less."  In  grateful  recollec- 
tion, let   us   hail    them,  this  day,  as  consistent   advocates   and 


SALVATION   THROUGH  CHRIST.  471 

successful  champions  of  the  truth  which  we  prize  more  than  un- 
counted gold.  But  our  regard  for  their  honored  memories  need 
not  impose  silence  on  our  lips  in  respect  to  unforeseen  tendencies 
or  results  of  the  movement  which  received  its  impulse  from  them. 
If  religion  has  become  among  us  too  much  a  visible  uprightness, 
and  too  little  an  inward  experience,  let  us  say  so ;  in  God's 
name,  let  us  say  so ;  in  our  fealty  to  Christ,  let  us  say  so ;  for 
our  soul's  sake,  let  us  say  so ;  for  our  children's  sake,  and  the 
sake  of  those  who  may  accept  our  construction  of  the  gospel,  let 
us  say  so.  And  therefore  I  do  say,  that  morality  without  piety,  good- 
ness without  faith,  practical  Christianity,  as  it  is  sometimes  called, 
without  spiritual  Christianity  interpenetrating  and  sustaining  it,  is 
like  a  tree  the  heart  of  which  has  perished ;  or  a  fairly  bound 
volume,  whose  pages  afford  no  instruction.  Religion  enters  into 
life  or  becomes  practical,  by  first  passing  into  the  consciousness, 
and  thence  infusing  itself  into  the  conduct.  Personal  goodness, 
without  this  interior  spring  and  support,  is  a  shell,  a  color,  a 
disguise,  not  a  substantial  and  permanent  reality.  If  you  would 
have  honest,  kind,  and  generous  neighbors,  persuade  them  to 
take  Christ  into  their  hearts  as  their  Lord  and  Saviour.  If  you 
would  be  thorough  and  consistent  in  goodness  yourself,  embrace 
him  with  a  hearty  faith.  The  soul  shapes  the  life.  The  Chris- 
tian soul  subdues  speech  and  behavior  into  manifestations  of 
itself.  When  we  care  not  for  what  we  seem,  but  for  what  we 
are,  we  make  the  appearance  a  true  picture  of  the  inward  life. 
It  is  the  soul  that  must  experience  the  power  of  the  gospel  as  a 
Divine  gift  and  a  Divine  influence.  It  is  an  unseen  experience 
that  must  prove  our  estimation  of  the  Saviour  in  whom  we 
believe.  It  is  the  soul  that  must  be  saved;  and  saved  by  its 
spiritual.  Christian,  Divine,  let  me  style  it  —  for  it  is  sympathy 
with  the  infinite  excellence  of  God  —  its  Divine  consciousness. 
The  external  blessings  of  Christianity  are  just  occasions  of  thank- 
fulness ;  but  what  are  they  in  comparison  with  the  light,  the 
strength,  the  peace,  the  comfort,  the  hope,  the  joy,  of  which  it 
makes  the  soul  the  possessor  ? 

We  hear  much  in  these  days  of  the  social  reforms  which  are 


472  EZRA    STILES  GANNETT. 

needed,  and  whicli  Christian  men  are  carrying  on.  So  far  as 
they  are  conducted  in  a  Christian  spirit,  and  with  a  reliance  on 
Chiistian  truth,  success  attend  them  !  Let  them  have  our  sym- 
pathies, our  efforts,  and  our  prayers.  But  the  removal  of  social 
abuses  is  not  the  object  for  you  or  me,  or  any  man,  to  adopt  as 
his  end  in  life.  The  "  end  of  our  faith  "  is  "  the  salvation  of  our 
souls."  Inward  reformation  is  the  work  which  we  must  first 
undertake.  This  we  can  accomplish,  each  one  for  and  in  him- 
self The  individual  can  correct  the  abuses  of  his  own  life,  can 
eradicate  the  errors  of  his  own  heart,  can  make  his  own  con- 
sciousness a  proof  of  the  efficacy  of  the  gospel.  God  bless  all 
honest  philanthropists !  —  they  are  servants  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
and  friends  of  their  kind.  But  the  Lord  Jesus  offers  salvation 
to  the  world  by  offering  it  to  the  individual.  In  ourselves  must 
the  Divine  grace  be  felt,  renewing,  sanctifying,  saving  us. 

Holiness,  —  it  once  was  a  more  common  word  in  Christian  dis- 
course and  Christian  conversation  than  now.  Holy  men  and 
women,  —  why,  we  regard  them  with  somewhat  the  same  distant 
admiration  with  which  we  look  back  on  the  saints  or  martyrs  of 
other  times.  Here  and  there  we  see  one  —  a  godly  man,  a  saintly 
woman  —  standing  in  society  like  spiritual  eminences  that  r'i'^e 
above  the  clouds  of  our  familiar  experience  and  enjoy  the  clear 
sunshine  of  God's  presence.  But  why,  tell  me,  I  pray  you,  explain 
to  yourselves,  if  you  can,  my  friends,  why  every  one  of  us  should 
not  aspire  to  the  same  enjoyment  of  celestial  realities.  "  Be  ye 
holy  even  as  your  Father  in  heaven  is  holy,"  said  Jesus  to  the 
same  persons  to  whom  he  delivered  liis  instruction  respecting  the 
forgiveness  of  injuries  and  the  distribution  of  alms.  Away  with  the 
notion,  which  multitudes  cherish,  that  only  a  few  are  called  to  be 
saints!  Lend  no  countenance  to  this  half-gospel.  Every  one, 
every  one,  should  be  a  partaker  of  that  life  through  which  man  has 
his  fellowship  with  the  Eternal  Father  and  the  sinless  Son. 

My  friends,  hear  the  words  of  Christ,  "  Whosoever  —  whosoever 
drinketh  of  the  water  that  I  shall  give  him  shall  never  thirst ;  but 
the  water  that  I  shall  give  him  shall  be  in  him  a  fountain  springing 
up  into  everlasting  life."     Has  your  experience  been  a  confirma- 


DOCTRINAL  BASIS  OF  CHRISTIANITY.       473 

tion  of  those  words  ?  Have  you  ever  thought  that  the  "  whoso- 
ever" includes  you  ?  Have  you  still  unsatisfied  wants,  a  restless 
heart,  an  impatient  will?  Do  you  know  what  distress  or  dis- 
content is  of  which  you  say  nothing  because  you  but  half  un- 
derstand it,  that  thirst  of  the  soul  which  can  be  slaked  only  in 
the  water  of  Christian  salvation,  that  longing  after  peace,  that 
dim  outline  of  satisfaction  which  mocks  the  feeling  of  which  it  is 
the  shadow,  —  do  you  know  this  ?  Then  take  into  your  innermost 
being  the  influences  of  which  Christ  is  the  symbol  and  the  source, 
—  drink,  drink  freely,  abundantly,  continually,  of  the  water  that 
He  shall  give  you,  and  you  will  find  the  relief,  the  rest,  the  satis- 
faction which  you  want. 


1862. 
THE  DOCTRINAL  BASIS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

1  Tim.  iv.  6  :  "  ^  good  minister  of  Jesus  Christ,  nourished  up  in  the  words 
of  faith  and  of  good  doctrine,  whereunto  thou  hast  attained."     • 

Doctrinal  preaching  is  the  exposition  of  positive  spiritual 
truths.  It  differs,  therefore,  from  what  is  usually  called  practi- 
cal preachi ug,  or  an  enforcement  of  the  preceptive  parts  of  re- 
ligion; though,  under  a  more  correct  appreciation,  doctrinal 
preaching  bears  the  same  relation  to  practical  as  the  planting  of 
the  tree  to  the  culture  of  fruit.  It  differs  also  from  sentimental 
preaching,  or  a  weak  dilution  of  truth  in  pretty  phrases.  It 
differs  from  rhetorical  preaching,  or  an  exhibition  of  electro- 
plated ware  for  solid  silver.  It  differs  from  all  preaching  but  gos- 
pel j)reaching :  which  indeed  it  is,  pre-eminently  and  exclusively . 
for  its  purpose  is  to  unfold  the  glad  news  of  redemption  and  life 
which  the  Son  of  God  brought  from  the  bosom  of  Infinite  Love. 
It  is  such  preaching  as  we  find  in  those  discourses  of  Jesus, 
which  John,  the  most  doctrinal  of  the  Evangelists,  has  given  us. 
It  is  such  a  style  of  preaching  as  both  the  Acts  and  the  Epistles 
show  that  Paul  adopted,  and  such  as  he  recommended  to  Tim- 


474  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT. 

othy  in  his  description  of  "  a  good  minister  of  Jesus  Christ,"  as 
one  "  nourished  up  in  the  words  of  faith  and  of  good  doctrine." 

A  restoration  of  doctrinal  Christianity  to  its  rightful  place,  in 
the  preparations  of  the  minister  for  his  pulpit,  is  the  great  reform 
which  the  exigencies  and  the  obligations  of  our  position  in  the 
Christian  Church  require  us  to  adopt.  This  want  our  political 
troubles,  instead  of  overshadowing  or  putting  in  abeyance,  make 
more  distinct  and  immediate ;  for,  whether  we  desire  to  gain  a 
higher  atmosphere  of  thought  in  which  our  souls  may  find  relief 
from  the  burthen  that  weighs  on  them,  or  to  draw  from  the  gos- 
pel the  counsel  and  strength  which  shall  fit  us  to  bear  our  part 
in  the  offices  of  the  hour,  there  never  has  been  a  time,  in 
human  history,  when  the  vital  doctrines  of  the  gospel  had  a 
larger  opportunity  to  prove  their  value.  And  as  in  past  ages 
and  as  now,  so  through  future  time  the  disinthralment  of 
society  from  error,  as  well  as  the  deliverance  of  the  soul  from 
sin,  must  be  the  work  of  those  agencies  which  faith  in  Christ 
shall  put  in  motion  :  not  a  faith  in  the  letter  of  his  history, 
which  alone  sets  nothing  in  motion;  but  faith  in  him  as  the 
Teacher,  Redeemer,  and  Lord,  whose  words  must  be  accepted  as 
the  quickening  forces  of  humanity. 

What  are  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  ?  Without  yet  specify- 
ing them,  our  general  answer  would  be.  They  are  the  truths 
which  Christianity  makes  prominent  and  essential,  —  prominent 
in  the  place  they  hold,  and  essential  in  the  influence  they  exert. 
They  are  the  great  spiritual  revelations  of  the  Gospel.  Theoreti- 
cally, they  constitute  the  substance  of  the  Gospel ;  experimen- 
tally, they  denote  its  effect.  They  are  worthy,  therefore,  of  being 
described  in  terms  which  believers  have  been  fond  of  using.  They 
are  the  "doctrines  of  grace,"  or  declarations  setting  forth  the  char- 
acter and  conditions  of  the  Divine  favor ;  "  doctrines  of  the  cross," 
or  truths  of  which  the  cross  of  Christ  is  at  once  the  symbol  and  the 
assurance  ;  "  doctrines  of  salvation,"  or  indications  of  the  method 
by  which  man  may  be  rescued  from  the  peril  into  which  sin  has 
cast  him.  These  are  appropriate  and  excellent  terms  to  use  in 
this   connection.     Perverted  as   they  have   been   to  designate 


DOCTRINAL  BASIS   OF  CHRISTIANITY.        475 

statements  that  make  salvation  a  mystery,  the  cross  a  means  of 
extricating  the  Supreme  Being  from  a  dilemma,  and  grace  the 
title  of  immoral  partiality,  we  have  been  inclined  to  let  them 
fall  into  neglect.  Would  it  not  be  better  to  reinstate  them  in 
the  possession  of  their  true  meaning?  In  the  interpretation 
which  we  give  to  the  Gospel,  they  find  their  just  value ;  and  we, 
of  all  Christians  in  the  world,  have  a  right  to  use  them. 

It  is  a  pecuHarity  of  the  Gospel,  that  it  offers  no  systematic 
exposition  of  truth.  Christ  did  not  aim  at  making  men  pro- 
found theologians.  Theology  as  a  science  lies  scattered  through 
the  Bible  very  much  as  the  precious  stones  in  the  breastplate 
of  the  Jewish  high-priest  were  once  scattered  among  the  treas- 
ures of  nature.  Brought  together,  and  set  each  in  its  place, 
they  represent  and  reflect  the  Divine  Will ;  yet  the  arrange- 
ment is  artificial  and  provisional.  The  everlasting  truths  which 
Jesus  delivered  dropped  from  his  lips,  one  might  say  on  the  first 
perusal,  incidentally,  as  if  without  either  plan  or  forethought ; 
although  a  closer  examination  will  discover  a  pertinency  which 
connects  the  occasion  with  the  speech,  and  causes  the  former  to 
become  a  means  of  elucidating  the  latter.  Even  Paul,  scholar 
and  dialectician  as  he  was,  never  attempts  to  reduce  Christianity 
to  a  system  :  it  is  his  commentators  who  have  introduced  scientific 
analysis  into  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans. 

In  any  attempt  which  we  make  to  define  the  truths  of  our 
religion,  we  should  be  guided  by  two  rules,  which  have  been 
strangely  overlooked.  One  of  these  rules  obliges  us  to  seek  the 
Christian  doctrines  among  the  plain  instructions  of  Christ.  They 
are  not  matters  of  inference,  but  of  revelation ;  not  the  back- 
ground of  obscure  hints,  but  the  substance  of  positive  instruction. 
A  doctrine  which  cannot  be  presented  in  Christ's  words  is  not 
a  part  of  his  Gospel.  Essential  truth  was  not  left  to  be  in- 
geniously deduced  from  what  he  taught :  still  less  is  it  a  recon- 
ciliation of  opposite  statements  which  he  made ;  for  one  of  these 
suppositions  imputes  to  him  an  erroneous,  and  the  other  an  insuf- 
ficient, discharge  of  the  office  with  which  he  was  intrusted  when 
he  was  sent  to  "  bear  witness  to  the  truth." 


476  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

The  other  condition  of  successful  inquiry  after  Christian  doc- 
trine limits  us  to  such  truths  as  contain  a  spiritual  efficacy,  by 
which  the  character  may  be  quickened  and  purified.  For  the 
object  of  Christ's  ministry  was,  not  to  supply  the  believer  with 
intellectual  furniture,  but  to  endow  the  soul  with  the  energies  of 
religious  life.  A  revelation  that  should  not  touch  the  conscience 
nor  mould  the  will  did  not  fall  within  the  purpose  of  his  mission. 
His  silence  on  many  questions  which  men  are  eager  to  propound 
may  be  explained  by  this  fact.  How  little,  for  example,  do  we 
know  of  the  future  world,  beyond  the  momentous  disclosures  of 
immortality  and  judgment !  Thousands  confess  their  disappoint- 
ment and  impatience  at  this  sDence  by  the  delight  they  take  in 
fictitious  description.  Yet  is  it  not  plain  that  it  would  have 
helped  us  but  little,  in  our  present  struggle  with  evil,  to  have 
been  told  all  that  we  desire  to  know  about  the  nature  of  angels 
or  the  employments  of  beatified  spirits  ?  and  is  it  not  probable 
that  therefore  we  are  taught  no  more  ?  The  Gospel  was  not 
given  to  satisfy  an  unprofitable  curiosity,  however  natural  or 
innocent.  The  end  of  faith  is  a  spiritual  consciousness.  "  Sanc- 
tify them  by  thy  truth,"  was  the  prayer  of  Jesus. 

The  two  conditions  which  we  have  now  laid  down  enable  us 
to  discriminate  between  the  Divine  and  the  human,  the  true  and 
the  conjectural.  They  justify  us  in  resisting  any  attempt  to 
impose  on  our  belief  statements  which  multitudes  accept.  We 
provide,  not  an  ingenious  yet  inadequate  defence,  but  a  fair  and 
full  protection  of  our  incredulity,  when  we  demand  of  the  advo- 
cates of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  that  they  present,  at  least, 
one  form  of  that  doctrine  in  the  words  of  Christ ;  or  when  we 
challenge  the  believers  in  natural  depravity  to  show  how  such  a 
dogma  can  give  impulse  or  aid  to  a  soul  seeking,  or  needing 
redemption.  For  the  sake  of  discrimination,  we  urge  the  im- 
portance of  considering  the  method  and  design,  as  well  as  the 
contents,  of  Christ's  instruction.  It  is  not  a  proclivity  towards 
unbelief,  but  a  desire  for  right  belief,  that  induces  us  to  reject 
popular  creeds  and  open  the  way  to  a  sound  faith.  Under  the 
countenance  of  a  Scriptural  example,  we  "  take  away  the  first, 
that  we  may  establish  the  last." 


DOCTRINAL  BASIS  OF  CHRISTIANITY.       477 

Such  a  use  of  religious  truths  as  it  should  be  the  object  of  the 
ministry  to  encourage  might  require  an  entire  reconstruction  of 
Christian  theology.  The  corner-stone  of  the  theological  systems, 
which  different  sections  of  the  Church  have  erected  as  citadels  of 
faith,  has  been  some  attribute  of  the  Divine  Nature,  —  the  sover- 
eignty, for  example,  or  the  goodness  of  God ;  and  the  apex  has 
been  found  either  in  the  glory  of  God,  or  in  the  ultimate  well- 
being  of  his  universe.  Using  these  as  the  initial  and  final  state- 
ments, it  became  necessary  to  adjust  all  intermediate  truths  with 
a  reference  to  such  boundaries  ;  and  Christian  doctrines  have,  in 
the  main,  been  formulas  meant  to  express  the  mysteries  of  the 
Divine  government.  With  equal  reverence  and  gratitude,  let 
us  take  up  the  privilege  of  maintaining  that  the  Gospel  does  not 
enter  on  so  fruitless  a  task.  It  treats  of  matters  more  nearly 
level  with  the  human  consciousness.  Its  corner-stone  is  human 
want ;  its  apex,  everlasting  life.  A  correct  understanding  of  the 
Gospel  would  compel  us,  therefore,  if  bent  upon  framing  its 
truths  into  a  system,  to  adopt  a  different  "  scheme  of  divinity  " 
from  any  which  is,  or  ever  has  been,  popular.  Taking  our  posi- 
tion, not  in  the  skies,  but  on  the  earth,  we  interpret  Christianity 
as  the  law  and  the  inspiration  of  a  healthful  consciousness.  The 
first  duty  of  the  Christian  minister,  after  having  himself  "at- 
tained unto  the  words  of  faith  and  of  sound  doctrine,"  is  to  lay 
this  interpretation  of  the  Gospel  before  his  people  in  the  plain- 
est, yet  most  persuasive,  terms  which  he  can  borrow  from  his 
own  interior  life. 

Under  such  an  interpretation,  what  will  be  the  constituent  mem- 
bers of  doctrinal  Christianity?  By  way  of  illustration  rather 
than  enumeration,  let  me  give  a  partial  answer  to  this  inquiry. 

In  the  front  rank  of  Christian  truths,  foremost  in  the  noble 
company,  I  find  a  doctrine  concerning  mediation.  It  is  a  doc- 
trine of  wide  significance.  It  involves  a  view  of  the  relations 
which  exist  between  God  and  man,  and  of  the  place  which  Christ 
holds  in  the  midst  of  these  relations.  It  presents  God  as  at  once 
righteous  and  merciful;  "just,  and  the  justifier  of  him  who 
believeth  in  Jesus  ; "  sinned  against,  yet  patient  with  the  trans- 


478  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

gi'essor ;  forsaken  by  them  who  live  only  through  his  watchful 
care,  still  yearning  after  their  repentant  submission,  and  ready 
to  forgive  those  whose  hearts  are  broken  in  contrite  grief; 
"commending  his  love  to  us,  in  that,  while  we  were  sinnei-s, 
Christ  died  for  us."  It  presents  man  as  lying  in  a  state  of  moral 
ruin,  yet  capable  of  moral  renovation ;  weak,  wilful,  corrupt,  self- 
betniyed,  lost,  yet  stung  by  conscience  and  weary  in  heart; 
with  powers  and  affections  estranged  from  God,  but  restless  in 
their  departure  from  him.  It  presents  Christ  as  the  instrument 
chosen  to  bring  men  back  to  obedience  ;  the  Messenger,  whom 
Divine  Grace  qualified  for  a  work  which  no  other  being  was 
competent  to  execute ;  the  Instructor  and  Saviour  of  the  human 
race,  the  pledge  of  mercy,  the  channel  of  truth,  the  inspirer  of 
hope,  the  reconciling  agency  between  the  soul  and  its  Maker,  the 
"Sent"  of  God,  the  "Mediator." 

What  a  breadth  of  truth  is  covered  by  this  doctrine !  What 
depths  of  experience,  what  heights  of  aspiration,  does  it  disclose ! 
In  what  a  clear  light  does  it  set  the  fact  of  the  atonement,  which 
men  have  so  sadly  misused,  first  by  calling  it  a  doctrine,  and  then 
by  torturing  and  overlaying  it ;  till  the  "  atonement "  of  the  Church 
has  resembled  the  "  atonement "  of  the  New  Testament  as  little  as 
engravings  that  you  may  have  seen  of  the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  in 
which  the  principles  of  art  and  the  traditions  of  history  are  treated 
with  equal  scorn,  resemble  the  original  structure.  The  atonement 
is  the  great  central  fact  of  the  believer's  life,  for  which  his  previous 
experience  has  been  a  mournful  preparation,  but  of  which  his 
subsequent  experience  is  a  joyful  result,  —  the  conquest  of  the 
human  will  by  the  Divine  love,  and  the  seal  of  the  Saviour's 
mediatorial  work.  Let  not  any  man  add  unto  it  what  does  not 
belong  to  it,  lest  God  "  add  unto  him  the  plagues  "  of  a  darkened 
mind  and  diseased  conscience  ;  let  no  man  take  away  from  it 
any  part  of  its  meaning,  lest  God  "  take  away  his  part  out  of  the 
book  of  life." 

The  next  doctrine  in  order  of  importance,  —  for  a  just  arrange- 
ment of  Christian  trutlis  must  be  founded  on  their  relative  spirit- 
ual value,  —  is  a  doctrine  respecting  the  sons  of  God.     Like 


DOCTRINAL  BASIS  OF  CHRISTIANITY.       479 

that  of  which  we  have  just  spoken,  this  also  has  a  large  range  of 
meaning.  Like  that,  it  involves  a  revelation  concerning  God 
and  Christ  and  man.  It  exhibits  God  in  the  relation  of  a 
Father ;  for,  if  there  be  "  sons  of  God,"  he  must  have  granted 
to  some  of  his  creatures  the  privilege  of  calling  him  "  Father." 
But  to  whom  ?  Not  to  the  whole  world,  except  as  they  may- 
choose  to  put  themselves  in  a  filial  relation.  The  more  I  study 
the  New  Testament,  the  more  am  I  inclined  to  restrict  the  reve- 
lation of  "  the  Father."  Christ  makes  him  known,  under  this 
title,  to  such  as  through  faith  become  children  of  God.  To  those 
whom  he  addressed  as  "  the  light  of  the  world  "  and  "  the  salt  of 
the  earth,"  or  to  the  representatives  of  his  future  Church,  Jesus 
gave  permission  to  say,  ''Our  Father,  who  art  in  heaven." 
Practically,  at  least,  the  paternal  character  of  God  can  be  a 
revelation  only  to  those  who  have  entered  into  spiritual  union 
with  Christ.  "  If  ye  had  known  me,"  were  his  words,  "  ye 
should  have  known  my  Father  also."  To  those  who  are  sons, 
the  Gospel  unfolds  the  parental  attributes  of  the  Divine  Mind ; 
and  the  Infinite  One,  clothed  with  majesty  and  girded  with 
power,  becomes  the  most  tender  and  intimate  of  personal  friends. 
Look,  now,  on  the  other  side  of  this  relation.  Frail  and  sinful 
man  becomes  a  child  of  God.  "  Hast  made  us  unto  our  God 
kings  and  priests  "  is  the  language  in  which  the  saints  celebrate 
the  praises  of  the  Redeemer,  under  the  Oriental  imagery  of  the 
Apocalypse  ;  but  it  is  a  nearer,  and  therefore  a  more  glorious, 
relation  to  hold,  which  we  claim  as  sons.  "  The  spirit  of  adop- 
tion "  which  we  have  "  received "  lifts  us,  if  we  may  so  speak, 
out  of  the  arms  of  a  Providence  fearful,  if  faithful,  to  lay  us  on 
the  bosom  of  a  heavenly  grace ;  while  it  informs  us  of  the  design 
of  that  Providence  in  chastening  us,  even  that  we  may  become 
"partakers"  of  the  holiness  which  constitutes  the  essential  qual- 
ity of  the  Divine  Nature.  This  doctrine  of  sonship  includes  yet 
more  ;  for  it  instructs  us  concerning  Him  who  was  the  "  well- 
beloved  Son,"  and  who  is  "  not  ashamed  to  call  them  who  are 
sanctified,  brethren,"  since  he  also  was  "  sanctified  and  sent  into 
the  world "  by  the  Father.     On  this  ground,  as  you  remember, 


480  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

he  rested  his  justification  in  calling  himself  "  the  Son  of  God.** 
If  men,  instead  of  seeking  for  the  import  of  this  title  among 
inscrutable  mysteries  of  an  antecedent  state  of  being,  had  ac- 
cepted tlie  definition  which  lies  on  the  very  surface  of  the  Gos- 
pel, how  much  angry  debate  and  how  much  secret  distress  would 
have  been  avoided ! 

One  other  example  let  me  give  of  the  contents  of  doctrinal 
Christianity.  Distinct  and  bright  on  the  pages  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament stands  the  doctrine  of  eternal  life.  Here,  again,  we  throw 
open  to  the  believer  a  boundless  field  of  experience.  No  word 
is  entitled  to  bear  a  greater  weight  of  meaning  than  this  mono- 
syllabic "  life  ; "  yet,  till  Christ  raised  it  into  a  true  appreciation, 
how  little  did  it  signify !  Even  now,  in  lands  on  which  the  light 
of  the  Gospel  has  not  fallen,  in  Pagan  or  Mohammedan  coun- 
tries, how  little  value  is  set  upon  human  life !  Christ  aug- 
mented the  force  of  the  term  immeasurably,  both  by  showing 
what  life  might  be  made  here,  and  by  announcing  its  continuance 
hereafter.  As  a  present  possession,  life  becomes  invaluable, 
when  seen  to  be,  internally,  a  consciousness  of  spiritual  rela- 
tions; and,  externally,  a  discharge  of  duties,  which,  however 
mean  to  a  worldly  eye,  are  glorified  by  their  connection  with 
character.  Nothing  now  is  ignoble,  except  that  which  con- 
science brands  as  unworthy.  Whatever  it  is  right  for  a  man  to 
do,  in  princely  apparel  or  in  peasant's  dress,  is  honorable  and 
holy  work.  At  one  blow  did  this  interpretation  of  life  strike 
down  the  artificial  barriers  and  false  judgments  of  society. 
Understood  as  the  pursuit  of  excellence  or  as  the  normal  growth 
of  the  soul,  life  is  an  equal  privilege,  and  therefore  an  equal 
trust,  for  all.  Royalty  is  but  the  pressure  of  a  heavier  obliga- 
tion, while  slavery  is  a  denial  of  personal  rights ;  selfishness  is 
suicide ;  and  love  the  fulness  of  satisfaction.  Under  the  influ- 
ence of  such  ideas,  regeneration,  the  new  birth,  is  relieved  of  all 
technical  or  dogmatic  obscurity,  and  appears  in  its  true  charac- 
ter, as  the  entrance  of  a  human  soul  into  a  consciousness  of  its 
own  powers  and  destinies.  The  Saviour's  words,  "  Except  a 
man   be   born   again,   he   cannot   enter   into   the   kingdom    of 


DOCTRINAL  BASIS  OF  CHRISTIANITY.       481 

Heaven,"  become  the  statement  of  a  law  as  intelligible  as  it  is 
inevitable. 

Still  Christianity  does  not  stop,  in  its  explanation  of  "  life," 
at  the  boundary  of  our  present  state  of  being.  By  carrying 
forward  the  term  into  an  unseen  world,  and  there  investing 
it  with  imperishable  associations,  that  it  may  return  into  our 
use  as  a  symbol  of  immortality,  the  Gospel  has  made  it  the  most 
comprehensive  of  the  terms  of  human  speech.  While  the  reve- 
lation of  immortality  is  justly  regarded  as  one  of  the  peculiar 
features  of  the  Gospel,  the  form  in  which  this  revelation  is  made 
is  not  less  worthy  of  notice.  It  is  not  a  naked  annunciation  of 
another  state  of  being,  but  a  continual  recognition  of  the  inde- 
structible qualities  of  the  life  which  Christ  has  quickened  in  the 
soul,  and  which  is  one  and  the  same  through  all  stages  of  exist- 
ence. "  Whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  die," 
is  his  promise  of  immortality  to  man. 

If  Christianity  had  paused  at  this  point,  however,  it  would 
have  failed  to  add  the  sanction  which  is  needed  for  the  support 
of  a  struggling  virtue,  or  the  warning  which  may  deter  the  sin- 
ner from  fatal  perseverance  in  the  course  he  has  chosen.  There 
is  one  other  doctrine  of  our  religion,  which  I  may  not  leave  un- 
noticed, —  the  doctrine  of  retribution ;  which  unfolds  the  influ- 
ence of  each  moment  on  the  next  moment,  of  each  period  of  our 
mortal  existence  on  the  subsequent  periods,  and  of  the  whole  of 
this  life  on  an  endless  futurity.  If  there  be  any  thing  positive 
in  the  Gospel,  it  is  the  declaration  that  man  is  living  under  a 
judgment,  which  never  relaxes  its  vigilance,  nor  suspends  its 
retributive  function  ;  a  judgment,  for  the  rectitude  and  constancy 
of  which  the  Divine  attributes  are  a  security,  and  the  nature  of 
which  Christ  has  set  forth,  now  in  the  unequivocal  terms  in 
which  its  principles  are  announced,  and  now  by  the  terrific 
imajxes  in  which  its  effects  are  described.  Ilavinjj  the  same 
foundation  and  the  same  altitude,  this  doctrine,  and  that  which 
we  last  considered,  stand  as  the  pillars  on  which  the  portals  of 
eternity  are  hung;  through  which,  as  faith  forces  them  open, 
light  from  the  sovereign  throne  streams  out,  and  falls  on  every 

act  of  our  mortal  being. 

31 


482  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

I  may  not  try  your  patience  by  any  further  description  of  the 
doctrinal  basis  on  which  Christianity  would  raise  the  fabric  of 
character.  Under  these  four  titles,  we  have  indicated  the  most 
important  portion  of  the  contents  of  the  Gospel ;  for  the  value 
of  the  truths  which  it  delivers  is  not  numerical,  but  moral.  It 
is  not  by  quantity,  but  by  quality,  that  we  estimate  the  water  of 
which  "  he  who  driuketh  shall  never  thirst  again."  In  avoiding 
the  usual  titles,  as  well  as  the  usual  arrangement,  of  the  Chris- 
tian doctrines,  1  cannot  expect  an  instant  concurrence  from  all 
minds.  Yet  the  order  to  which  I  have  given  preference  is 
recommended  by  its  parallelism  with  the  purposes  which  Christ 
came  to  effect.  The  mistake  of  theologians  of  almost  every 
school  has  been  to  take  their  standpoint  outside  these  purposes, 
and  construct  their  system  from  a  position  at  which  the  Christian 
truths  do  not  appear  in  their  natural  relations.  Christ  did  not 
come  upon  earth  to  unfold  a  theology  of  the  universe,  or  to  solve 
the  problems  which  vex  a  student,  and  which  lie  as  far  behind 
human  want  as  above  human  intelligence;  but  to  meet  the 
actual  condition  of  humanity,  with  remedies  and  aids  suited  to 
this  end.  We  shall  be  in  the  best  situation  for  tracing  the  in- 
ternal economy  of  his  religion,  if  we  place  ourselves  where  he  stood 
when  he  cried,  "  Repent ;  for  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand.'* 
You  observe  that  the  Gospel  did  not  begin  with  a  doctrine  about 
the  mode  of  the  Divine  being,  or  the  origin  of  human  sinfulness ; 
but  with  a  recognition  of  the  fact  that  man  was  a  sinner,  and  a 
promise  that  God  would  draw  the  penitent  soul  into  union  with 
himself  Here  should  our  exj^osition  of  Cliristianity  begin, — 
in  the  mediatorial  work  of  reconciliation  between  a  miserable 
sinner  and  a  gracious  God ;  and  thence,  through  personal  veri- 
fication of  the  doctrines  of  sonship,  eternal  life,  and  spiritual 
judgment,  pass  to  the  final  cry  of  the  believer,  "  Thanks  be  to 
God,  who  giveth  us  the  victory." 

Through  personal  verification;  that  is,  through  such  an  ac- 
quaintance of  the  soul  with  these  doctrines  as  shall  render  them 
elements  of  its  consciousness,  and  conditions  of  its  history.  Not 
only  the  nature,  but  the  influence,  of  Christian  truth  must  be 


DOCTRINAL  BASIS  OF  CHRISTIANITY.       483 

understood,  if  we  would  see  it  restored  to  its  rightful  position, 
either  in  the  regards  of  men  or  in  the  offices  of  the  pulpit.  This 
influence  is  neither  mechanical  nor  intellectual  nor  ethical,  but 
spiritual  and  experimental.  Religious  truth  may  be  received 
either  historically,  when  it  is  deposited  in  the  memory ;  or  in- 
tellectually, when  it  is  lodged  in  the  understanding ;  or  spiritu- 
ally, when  it  is  embraced  by  the  soul.  In  the  first  case,  words 
alone  are  held  by  an  act  of  faith ;  in  the  second  case,  ideas ;  in 
the  third,  vital  forces,  of  which  words  are  signs  in  the  memory, 
and  ideas  in  the  understanding,  but  signs  which,  whether  in  word 
or  in  idea,  are  useful  only  as  they  induce  the  soul  to  entertain 
such  forces  within  its  own  life.  The  excellence  of  preaching 
depends  on  its  fidelity  in  rendering  assistance  to  the  soul  in  its 
acquisition  of  this  benefit ;  in  other  words,  a  good  sermon  is  that 
which  brings  the  truth  into  connection  with  the  innermost  con- 
sciousness of  the  hearer.  A  sermon  that  shall  simply  repeat  or 
coldly  expound  the  truths  of  the  Gospel  may  not  be  worthless ; 
but  such  sermons  alone,  though  preached  through  all  the  Sun- 
days of  all  the  years  of  the  longest  ministry  that  ever  turned  a 
pulpit  from  its  legitimate  uses,  would  not  secure  one  soul  as  the 
seal  of  that  life-long  ministry.  No,  never ;  although  the  preacher 
should  have  learned  all  that  Aristotle  could  teach  him  of  logic, 
or  Cicero  of  eloquence.  Doctrinal  Christianity  must  be  so  used 
by  the  speaker  that  it  shall  strike  upon  the  spiritual  nature  of 
the  hearer.  Religion  addresses  itself  to  the  religious  faculties 
and  sensibilities,  not  to  the  critical  understanding  or  the  captious 
taste.  If  these  choose  to  lend  it  their  support  by  entering  into 
its  service,  so  much  more  easy  will  it  be  for  religion  to  trans- 
form the  sinner  into  a  saint ;  but,  competent  to  eflfect  this  trans- 
formation without  their  aid,  by  too  great  reliance  on  their  support, 
it  destroys  its  own  ability.  The  aim  of  the  preacher,  and  the 
aim  of  a  good  minister  in  his  private  intercourse  with  the  mem- 
bers of  his  congregation,  should  be  to  implant  truth  in  the  con- 
science and  heart,  and  in  the  deeper  sanctity  of  that  province  of 
our  nature  where  the  exercises  of  spiritual  communion  are  con- 
ducted, and  the  soul  vindicates  its  right  to  appropriate  to  itself 


484  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

the  apostle's  words,  "Our  fellowship  is  with  the  Father,  and 
with  His  Son  Jesus  Christ." 

Let  it  ever  be  borne  in  mind  that  we  can  apprehend  the  charac- 
ter or  value  of  Christianity  only  as  we  take  it  into  our  conscious- 
ness. Experience  alone  will  enable  us  to  understand  the  offices  of 
Christ  or  the  privileges  of  discipleship.  Not  more  true  is  it  that 
only  a  mother  can  know  a  mother's  love,  than  that  none  but  a  soul 
which  has  found  peace  can  know  "  the  peace  that  passeth  under- 
standing." "  Our  Father,  who  art  in  heaven,"  is  an  empty  phrase 
to  him  who  has  not  a  filial  heart ;  but  to  him  who  has  become  as  a 
little  child,  oh,  what  inexhaustible  treasures  of  grace  are  thrown 
open  by  such  a  revelation  of  God !  "  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ 
his  Son  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin  ; "  what  is  this  declaration  but 
diplomatic  cipher,  Egyptian  hieroglyphics,  an  algebraic  unknown 
quantity,  to  one  who  has  not  been  washed  in  that  blood  ?  but,  to 
him  who  has  felt  its  purifying  and  strengthening  influence,  the 
words  denote  an  operation  which  no  wealth  could  procure,  and 
for  wliich  no  gratitude  is  an  equivalent.  "No  man,"  we  are 
told,  "  could  learn  the  new  song  that  was  sung  before  the  throne, 
but  the  hundred  and  forty  and  four  thousand  who  were  redeemed 
from  the  earth." 


1846. 
THE   LARGENESS   OF   CHRISTIANITY. 

Matt.  vii.  28 ;  "  And  it  came  to  pass,  when  Jesus  had  ended  these  sayings,  the 
people  were  astonished  at  his  doctrine." 

"We  all  of  us  suffer  greatly  from  our  familiarity  with  the 
Christian  religion.  TVe  suffer  just  as  a  person  suffers  from  liv- 
ing too  near  any  magnificent  scenery.  He  does  not  appreciate 
it  as  it  deserves.  He  does  not  study  it.  He  does  not  think 
about  it.  Its  grandeur  is  lost  upon  him.  It  is  to  him  no  more 
than  the  ordinary  scenes  of  nature,  because  he  has  been  familiar 
with  it  all  his  life :  while  others  will  travel  hundreds  of  miles  to 


LARGENESS  OF  CHRISTIANITY,  485 

see  these  wonders  of  creation,  and  go  away  never  to  forget  them, 
he  passes  them  every  day  without  feeling  their  power  to  fill  the 
soul  with  admiration  or  undefined  rapture.  Just  as  one  dwelling 
within  the  sound  of  Niagara,  or  under  the  shadow  of  the  Alps, 
may  have  never  been  conscious  of  any  emotion  which  thrilled 
his  breast  at  the  sublime  spectacle  that  had  been  before  his  eyes 
from  childhood.  So  we  regard  Christianity  without  any  percep- 
tion of  its  extraordinary  character.  Familiarity  dulls  the  vision 
and  steels  the  heart.  They  who  heard  Jesus  when  the  Divine 
words,  which  thenceforth  became  an  imperishable  part  of  the 
world's  moral  atmospliere,  were  first  spoken,  were  differently 
affected.  They  were  surprised,  amazed,  rapt  in  wonder  or  in 
reverence,  they  felt  the  sublimity  of  such  teaching.  Even  the 
common  people,  the  rude  peasantry  of  Galilee,  the  wild  populace 
of  Jerusalem,  even  they  were  astonished  at  his  doctrine. 

Christianity  is  full  of  great  truths.  It  contains  no  others. 
All  that  it  says  is  large,  comprehensive,  boundless.  It  dis- 
courses of  what  is  higher  than  heaven,  deeper  than  hell,  broader 
than  the  creation,  more  stable  than  the  pillars  of  the  world  or 
the  laws  of  the  stellar  spheres.  It  speaks  reverently,  earnestly, 
calmly,  and  with  what  a  wonderful  plainness  and  clearness  of 
speech,  of  God,  the  All  in  All,  the  Eternal,  the  Immutable.  It 
speaks  distinctly  and  solemnly,  yet  with  how  tender  a  voice,  of 
the  soul,  the  child  and  heir  of  God,  immortal  in  its  nature,  free 
in  its  relations,  with  responsibilities  binding  it  to  the  present  and 
the  future,  the  near  and  the  remote,  and  with  destinies  which 
even  faith  cannot  measure.  It  speaks  of  duty,  whose  seed  is 
power,  whose  germination  is  choice,  whose  fruit  is  strength ;  of 
rei)entance,  which  is  the  soul's  conquest  of  itself,  and  of  progress, 
which  is  the  soul's  conquest  of  every  thing  without  itself;  of 
faith,  which  is  the  apprehension  of  the  invisible  and  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  spiritual ;  of  love,  the  condition  of  growth  and  satis- 
faction for  all  moral  beings  ;  of  eternal  life,  as  the  inheritance  of 
man,  the  experience  which  includes,  explains,  and  harmonizes  all 
the  mysteries  of  his  condition.  With  such  themes  as  these  it  is 
conversant.     And  of  these  it  treats  not  in  labored  or  pompous 


486  EZRA    STILES  GANNETT. 

strains,  as  if  it  were  ever  struggling  against  limitations  which  it 
could  not  surmount ;  but  simply  and  easily,  as  if  it  knew  the 
ground  which  it  was  treading,  and  had  walked  with  the  angels 
where  human  feet  have  never  trodden. 

Christianity  has  but  few  truths.  We  may  not  have  noticed 
this  peculiarity  of  our  religion.  Men  have  tried  to  multiply  its 
truths.  They  have  summoned  a  host  of  propositions  from  the 
charnel-house  of  a  decayed  superstition,  and  have  tried  to  make 
them  appear  as  Christian  statements.  They  have  made  long 
creeds  and  longer  catechisms,  and  cumbrous  bodies  of  divinity, 
and  massive  and  complex  systems  of  theology,  and  pronounced 
them  Christian.  But  Christianity  disowns  them  all.  They  bear 
as  little  of  the  form  as  they  breathe  of  the  spirit  of  Christianity. 
Christianity  has  few  truths,  because  what  it  has  are  so  large 
and  mean  so  much.  Where  each  idea  is  a  rich  mine,  an  inex- 
haustible fountain,  a  fathomless  ocean  of  instruction,  there  need 
not  be  many  ideas.  It  is  only  when  men  talk  of  small  things 
that  they  must  use  many  words ;  that  which  suggests  and 
quickens  thought  is  better  than  that  which  circumscribes  it. 
The  larger  the  ideas  which  religion  offers  to  the  contemplation 
of  its  disciples,  the  less  will  be  their  number.  The  truths  which 
the  Christian  faith  presents  to  our  examination,  and  our  use 
also,  are  so  important  and  so  vast,  that  they  must  necessarily 
be  few.  They  fill  the  soul,  satisfy,  task,  expand  it  to  the  utmost. 
Christianity  brings  a  few  great  principles  into  the  light  of  prac- 
tical relations.  More  would  be  a  hinderance  rather  than  a  help 
in  the  way  of  life.  Men  want  principles  of  large  and  various 
application,  not  a  load  of  diffuse  specification. 

Hence  arises  the  silence  of  Christianity  on  many  points  which 
awaken  our  curiosity,  and  interest  earnest  as  well  as  anxious  or 
imaginative  minds.  How  little  does  it  disclose  of  another  world! 
Not  half  nor  a  tenth  part  of  what  many  persons  would  like  to 
know,  —  of  what  we  should  all,  perhaps,  like  to  know.  Yet  it 
has  revealed  the  essential  truths ;  immortality,  retribution, 
society,  distinction,  —  these  points  are  established.  How  im- 
mense is  their  importance !  how  significant  are  they  as  facts  of 


LARGENESS   OF  CHRISTIANITY.  487 

futurity!  Questions  occur  in  connection  with  our  present  inter- 
ests on  which  we  miiiht  be  glad  to  hear  the  decisions  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  but  it  is  silent,  or  on  these  matters  seems  to  say  to 
conflicting  opinions,  in  the  words  of  Jesus,  "Who  made  me  a 
judge  or  a  divider  over  you  ?  "  Political  questions,  economical 
questions,  philanthropic  questions,  scientific  questions,  questions 
which  agitate  the  community  and  perplex  the  student,  it  passes 
over  in  silence.  Why  ?  Because  it  presents  truths  of  a  wider 
bearing  than  we  have  yet  thought  of  imputing  to  them ;  which 
will  be  found  by  and  by  to  penetrate  and  solve  all  these  ques- 
tions. Take  it  up  as  a  thing  to  be  committed  to  memory,  and 
Christianity  is  a  child's  lesson.  Take  it  up  as  a  thing  to  be  pon- 
dered and  searched  and  seen  through  and  used,  and  the  greatest 
of  philosophers  may  spend  his  life  upon  it,  and  but  have  begun 
to  enter  into  its  comprehensiveness. 

If  the  correctness  of  these  remarks  be  allowed,  a  distinction 
which  has  sometimes  been  thought  to  exist,  must  fall  to  the 
ground.  There  is  nothing  in  Christianity  that  is  not  of  per- 
petual authority  and  universal  interest.  All  is  permanent,  noth- 
ing is  transient ;  the  costume  in  which  the  truths  are  presented 
may  be  borrowed  from  the  age  in  which  they  were  delivered, 
but  the  truths  themselves  are  unchangeable.  The  mere  form 
of  expression  is  not  Christianity.  What  a  man  wears  is  not  the 
man  himself.  Even  in  statuary  Washington  is  one  and  the 
same,  whether  the  artist  represent  him  in  the  military  or  the  civil 
garb  of  his  own  time,  or  in  the  classical  dress  of  antiquity. 
With  yet  more  justice  might  a  similar  identity  have  been 
attributed  to  the  real  Washington,  let  him  have  put  on  what 
apparel  he  might.  The  literary  clothing  of  the  Gospel  is  not  the 
Gospel :  that  is  fixed ;  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever. 
Its  truths,  ideas,  principles,  which  constitute  its  character,  es- 
sence, substance,  —  these  pass  not  away,  change  not,  but  abide 
immutable,  immortal. 

The  bearing  which  this  view  of  our  religion  has  upon  the 
question  of  our  Lord's  inspiration  is  important.  It  seems  to  me 
to  go  far  towards  establishing  his  claim  to   be   considered   a 


488  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

specially  illuminated  messenger  of  the  Divine  mind.  Such  a  grasp 
of  great  truths  as  he  exhibited  is  not  to  be  resolved  into  an  ex- 
traordinary insight  or  a  peculiar  genius  for  religion.  There  was 
something  more,  something  higher:  there  was  a  breadth  of 
vision  which  marked  not  the  great  man,  but  the  prophet  in  the 
largest  sense  of  the  word ;  the  seer,  who  could  look  all  round 
the  horizon  and  take  in  the  measure  of  the  world,  who  could  see 
through  things  into  their  essence  and  life.  These  sayings  of 
Jesus  are  not  the  guesses  of  a  transcendental  speculation,  nor  the 
utterances  of  a  meditative  reason.  They  have  a  loftiness  as  well 
as  a  purity  which  does  not  belong  to  the  productions  of  human 
wisdom.  They  seem  instinct  with  divinity.  They  are  divine. 
"Whence  did  he  obtain  the  ability  to  proclaim  truths  which  bear 
such  evident  marks  of  a  heavenly  origin  ?  Let  us  hear  his  own 
reply :  "  I  have  not  spoken  of  myself,  but  the  Father  who  sent 
me,  He  gave  me  a  commandment  what  I  should  say  and  what  I 
should  speak." 

Nor  is  it  the  character  of  these  sayings  alone  which  renders 
them  so  remarkable :  the  maimer  is  not  less  worthy  of  notice  nor 
less  difficult  of  explanation  on  any  other  supposition  than  that  of 
his  elevation  by  means  of  supernatural  influence  above  the  com- 
mon exercises  of  the  human  mind.  It  was  this  which  first 
impressed  the  people  of  Judea:  they  '*were  astonished  at  his 
doctrine,  for  he  taught  them  as  one  having  authority,  and  not  as 
the  Scribes."  There  was  a  distinct  and  calm  delivery  of  truth 
that  was  new  to  them.  In  form  how  positive,  as  of  one  who 
knew  that  he  was  announcing  what  could  never  be  overthrown, 
yet  how  free  from  all  arrogance  or  self-complacency,  or  even 
from  the  delight  which  attends  the  discovery  of  truth !  Here  is 
neither  the  rapture  of  the  Grecian,  who,  in  his  joy  at  the  result 
of  liis  labors,  rushed  forth  exclaiming,  "  I  have  found  it ! "  nor 
the  more  quiet  but  not  less  deep  satisfaction  of  Newton  at  the 
close  of  his  great  work,  nor  the  exultation  of  Milton,  as  he  poured 
out  his  burning  soul,  in  the  thought  that  he  was  writing  for 
other  times.  Yet  these  were  great  men,  —  men  of  genius  ;  but 
their  manner  as  different  from  that  of  the  teacher  who  came  out 


LARGENESS   OF  CHRISTIANITY,  489 

from  Nazareth,  as  their  gifts  to  the  world  were  inferior  to  his. 
Even  Shakespeare,  who,  more  than  any  other,  discovers  the  highest 
order  of  genius  in  the  absence  of  all  self-consciousness  in  his 
larger  compositions,  betrays  the  same  weakness,  if  such  it  should 
be  called,  in  his  sonnets.  I  use  these  comparisons  to  show  how  en- 
tirely alone  Jesus  stands,  as  a  teacher.  He  is  unlike  others,  above 
thom,  beyond  them,  as  if  he  came  from  another  region  of  being. 
And  what  makes  this  feature  in  his  character  still  more  remark- 
able is  a  difference  which  we  trace  between  his  annunciation  of 
the  truths  which  he  brought  from  heaven  and  his  allusions  to  his 
own  experience.  In  the  latter  case  we  perceive  emotion,  sensi- 
Dility,  just  the  feeling  which  marks  him  as  acting  for  himself, 
the  very  feeling  which,  on  the  supposition  that  he  had  mounted 
on  the  wings  of  his  own  intelligence  to  a  higher  sphere  of  thought, 
would  have  been  seen  in  his  annunciation  of  his  discoveries. 
How  touching  are  his  notices  of  his  own  condition,  as  it  was 
either  felt  or  tbreseen  by  him  I  "  The  Son  of  man  hath  not  where 
to  lay  his  head."  "  Take,  eat ;  this  do  in  remembrance  of  me." 
"  If  I  am  lifted  up,  I  will  draw  all  men  unto  me."     But  when  he 

delivers  the  instructions  which  constituted  his  messasre  to  man- 
es 

kind,  there  is  either  the  calmness  of  an  almost  automatic  utter- 
ance, or  the  joy  which  was  felt  at  being  the  instrument  to  convey 
such  precious  truth  to  the  world.  "  Father,  I  thank  thee  that 
thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  hast 
revealed  them  unto  babes."  Observe  with  what  a  perfect  ease, 
beyond  all  study  and  all  art,  he  speaks  on  subjects  of  the  most 
sublime  character,  on  providence,  and  judgment,  and  all  the 
heights  and  depths  of  spiritual  experience.  It  is  wonderful,  it  is 
unparalleled,  it  is  inexplicable,  except  on  one  admission,  —  this 
tranquillity  of  the  bosom  of  Jesus,  in  the  possession  and  expres- 
sion of  such  thoughts. 

If  we  would  perceive  yet  more  clearly  the  superiority  of  the 
Christian  religion  to  all  other  forms  of  foith,  and  of  Christ  to  all 
other  teachers,  we  need  only  compare  him  with  others  who  have 
been  eminent  as  instructors  of  their  race,  or  his  Gospel  with 
other  systems  of  belief.     \Ye  will  leave  the  ancient  world.  Pagan 


490  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT.' 

philosophy  or  Jewish  wisdom,  and  come  to  later  times.  In  all 
the  teaching  of  great  men,  who  have  founded  communities  or 
gathered  sects,  or  left  the  impress  of  their  own  minds  on  society, 
you  find  something  which  is  not  great.  The  trivial  and  mean 
are  bound  up  with  the  grand  and  beautiful.  The  proportions  of 
the  building  are  not  preserved.  The  noble  entrance  leads  to  an 
unfinished  interior,  or  the  humble  gateway  does  not  correspond 
to  the  spacious  court  into  which  it  opens.  A  massive  pillar  restsj 
on  a  slight  foundation,  or  the  solid  base  supports  no  column ; 
weakness  and  strength  are  joined  together.  Imperfection  mars 
the  whole  work.  There  is  something  in  every  one's  discourse 
which  you  wish,  for  his  sake,  could  be  omitted.  Great  writers 
cannot  get  away  from  their  own  littleness.  Calvin  must  dog- 
matize, and  Luther  must  rail,  and  Swedenborg  must  abound 
with  idle  conceits.  But  he  who  spake  as  never  man  spake  is 
always  consistent,  always  great.  There  is  nothing  little,  either 
in  him  or  his  religion,  nothing  which  you  would  wish  to  efface. 
This  young  man  of  Galilee,  as  he  seems,  who  was  born  in  ob- 
scurity and  cradled  in  fear,  whose  education  was  a  simple  mother's 
care,  who  had  no  books  and  no  masters,  never  sat  at  Gamaliel's 
feet,  nor  listened  to  Grecian  sages  or  Egyptian  priests,  this 
plain  humble  Nazarene  speaks  words  which  not  only  pierce  the 
heart  of  humanity,  and  at  which  the  ages  tremble,  but  says  nothing 
which  is  poor,  false,  or  narrow.  All  is  great,  and  all  is  harmoni- 
ous. Explain  this.  Unbelief.  Solve  this  intellectual  problem,  this 
moral  wonder.  Listen  to  the  Son  of  Mary,  ye  men  of  this 
generation,  as  if  now  for  the  first  time  the  sound  of  his  instruc- 
tion had  reached  your  ears,  and  see  if  you  must  not  pronounce 
the  teaching  and  the  teacher  Divine. 

Furthermore,  the  fact  should  not  be  passed  without  notice  that 
Christianity,  sublime  as  are  the  truths  which  it  offers  to  human 
use,  is  suited  to  the  various  wants  of  man,  and  enters  into  all  the 
details  of  life.  It  accommodates  itself  to  exigencies  of  condition, 
and  regulates  the  pettiest  affairs  of  the  interior  or  exterior  being. 
But  this,  instead  of  lessening  its  claims  to  our  admiration,  aug- 
ments them;    for  only  truths  of  the  widest  reach  and  noblest 


LARGENESS  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  491 

kind  could  connect  themselves  with  all  the  relations  and  affairs 
of  human  life.  It  is  here,  as  in  the  material  world  :  a  few  ele- 
ments admit  of  unlimited  combination  and  application.  In  this 
respect  they  bear  witness  to  the  source  whence  they  came :  the 
primary  truths  of  the  Gospel,  the  ideas  which  lie  at  its  foundation 
and  compose  its  structure,  are  those  in  which  all  men  may  find 
the  counsel,  encouragement,  rebuke,  or  assistance,  which  they 
need.  The  man  on  the  throne,  and  the  man  in  tlie  common 
ranks  of  society,  the  scholar  and  the  rustic,  the  richest  and  the 
poorest,  the  well  and  the  sick,  both  sexes,  and  all  ages,  may  find 
in  the  revelations  of  Christianity,  few  as  they  are,  what  shall  be 
sufficient  for  their  diverse  moral  necessities.  Such  sufficiency 
could  belong  only  to  truths  of  the  largest  scope.  Because  Christ 
taught  great  principles,  he  became  the  instructor  of  all  conditions 
of  human  existence.  Go  from  east  to  west,  travel  the  earth 
over,  and  you  will  find  no  people  and  no  individual  to  whom  the 
sayings  of  Jesus  may  not  bring  peace,  strength,  and  joy.  The 
light  of  the  one  orb  of  day  fills  all  the  dwellings  of  a  land,  and 
every  corner  of  every  dwelling  with  its  blessed  radiance.  So 
can  the  Gospel  fill  all  the  hearts  in  the  land,  and  every  chamber 
and  nook  of  each  heart. 

The  characteristic  of  our  religion  on  which  we  are  remarking, 
if  properly  understood,  will  be  a  security  against  two  tendencies 
which  have  always  prevailed,  and  still  prevail  with  perhaps  un- 
diminished force,  in  the  church.  One  is  in  the  direction  of  ex- 
clusiveness.  How  is  the  narrow  and  bitter  spirit  of  intolerance 
abashed  —  or  rather,  if  it  were  capable  of  feeling  shame,  how 
would  it  be  abashed  —  before  the  largeness  of  Christianity,  —  a 
worm  crawling  in  the  dust  and  trying  to  ape  greatness  in  the 
presence  of  a  seraph  whose  flight  is  through  the  heavens !  A 
close  creed,  a  harsh  judgment,  and  a  self-sufficient  bigotry,  are  the 
component  parts  of  exclusiveness,  and  they  are  as  foreign  from 
the  mind  of  Christ,  or  the  genius  of  his  religion,  as  light  from 
darkness. 

The  other  tendency  is  towards  formalism.  It  may  be  an 
honest  and  conscientious  formalism,  a  reverence  for  the  methods 


492  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT, 

in  which  piety  expresses  itself,  a  reliance  on  ways  and  means  as 
of  equal  importance  with  that  to  which  they  lead,  an  extravagant 
use  of  the  outward,  though  to  the  inevitable  neglect  of  the  in- 
ward, part  of  religion.  I  speak  now  only  of  such  an  error ;  not  of 
a  false  regard  to  the  forms  of  worship,  put  on  from  unworthy  mo- 
tives. What  sterner  rebuke  could  be  administered  than  to  place 
the  Gospel  of  Matthew  or  John  on  the  altar  of  many  a  church 
named  after  him  whose  teaching  the  Evangelist  has  recorded? 
See  what  a  factitious  importance  has  been  ascribed  to  points 
of  mere  form  or  ceremony,  —  how  men  have  magnified  the  little 
and  overlooked  the  grand ;  have  quarrelled  about  trifles,  instead 
of  agreeing  upon  that  before  which  the  rise  or  fall  of  empires 
seems  small.  Oh,  how  is  more  than  half  the  controversy  of  our 
times  stripped  of  all  interest  and  value,  when  brought  into  con- 
nection with  the  sayings  of  Christ !  The  man  who  can  read  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  or  the  conversation  with  the  woman  of 
Samaria,  or  the  final  discourses  of  our  Lord  with  his  disciples, 
and  go  away  to  talk  about  the  ritual  of  a  church,  as  if  its  details 
were  of  moment,  —  to  say  the  best  of  him,  and  we  might  say 
what  would  be  more  harsh  and  not  less  true,  —  cannot  have 
much  of  the  usual  susceptibility  to  moral  influence  which  we 
find  in  human  nature.  The  sincere  formalist  can  be  but  an 
imperfect  —  may  I  not  say,  but  a  poor  ?  —  Christian.  He  has  not 
apprehended  the  greatness  of  the  Christian  truths.  He  does  not 
understand  the  Gospel  in  its  vital  characteristic.  And  every 
church  which  prides  itself  or  troubles  itself  about  ceremonies 
and  canons  and  ecclesiastical  practices  has  departed  from  the 
grand  peculiarity  of  the  religion  which  Jt  sus  taught. 

Christianity  is  large.  It  is  meant  to  expand,  not  to  contract, 
the  mind.  The  soul  beneath  its  influence  grows  large.  Its 
truths  are  reflections  of  the  infinite  attributes  of  God,  and  they 
communicate  something  of  His  nature  to  the  believer.  My 
hearers,  study  to  have  a  Christianity  in  your  own  hearts,  which 
shall  be  all-embracing,  all-vivifying.  Let  the  glorious  distinc- 
tion of  our  faith  stand  out  before  the  eyes  of  men.  Let  the 
greatness  of  Jesus  be  seen,  his  great  mind,  his  great  heart,  his 


GREAT  PRINCIPLES  IN  SMALL  MATTERS.    493 

great  life ;  of  Jesus,  whose  sayings  were  full  of  power,  because 
they  meant  more  than  tongue  had  ever  uttered  before,  whose 
actions  were  his  words  translated  into  reality,  and  whose  suffer- 
ings were  his  teachings  seen  through  the  medium  of  disaster, 
still  grand  and  glorious,  —  teachings  which  have  never  yet  found 
adequate  expression  in  anv  language  or  character  but  his  own. 


1849. 
GREAT   PRINCIPLES   IN   SMALL  MATTERS. 

Luke  xvi.  10 :  "  He  that  is  faithful  in  that  which  is  least  is  faithful  also  in 
much :  and  he  that  is  unjust  in  the  least  is  unjust  also  in  much" 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  peculiarities  of  our  religion  is  its 
connection  of  the  sublimest  truths  with  the  most  common  details 
of  life.  The  revelation  of  the  Christian  faith,  how  grand !  the 
duties  of  the  Christian  life,  how  simple  !  It  is  as  if  one  should 
plant  his  feet  upon  the  earth  while  his  head  was  among  the  stars. 
And  yet  we  are  not  affected  by  any  sense  of  incongruity  as  we 
notice  this  union  of  the  loftiest  truth  with  the  most  familiar 
experience.  It  never  occurs  to  us  that  it  is  an  unnatural  con- 
nection ;  it  never  seems  to  us  awkward  or  ludicrous  :  we  are 
neither  surprised  nor  perplexed  by  it.  Still  it  is  very  remark- 
able, and  strongly  indicative  of  the  Divine  origin  which  we 
ascribe  to  Christianity. 

In  the  life  of  Jesus,  that  best  commentary  upon  his  religion, 
we  find  the  same  union  of  great  principles  with  the  incidents 
of  daily  life.  It  is  the  character  of  Jesus  that  gives  grandeur  to 
the  situations  in  which  he  is  placed,  not  the  situations  that  make 
the  character  appear  extraordinary.  He  never  sought  to  draw 
attention  to  himself  by  an  unusual  manner  of  life ;  he  affected  no 
dignity,  studied  no  arts  of  impression,  and  in  his  outward  rela- 
tions exhibited  no  desire  to  be  unlike  the  men  among  whom  he 
lived.     With  singular  emphasis  may  it  be  said,  that  he  was  found 


494  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

in  fashion  as  a  man.  If  any  one  had  come  to  Judea  to  seek 
Christ,  where  would  he  have  found  him  ?  Let  us  suppose  that 
the  Roman  Emperor,  having  heard  of  his  name  and  the  sensation 
he  was  producing,  had  sent  some  one  to  inquire  into  the  nature 
or  ground  of  his  pretensions,  would  he  have  found  him,  like  the 
Grecian  philosopher,  walking  in  the  groves  of  some  academy 
dedicated  to  contemplation  ?  or  like  the  Jewish  Rabbi,  in  some 
chamber  of  the  temple,  with  scholars  sitting  at  his  feet  ?  would 
he  have  been  led  through  many  apartments  to  the  interior  of  a 
palace,  and  been  received  in  the  midst  of  wealth  and  splendor  ? 
or  have  been  conducted  to  Christ's  presence  through  armed  hosts 
and  all  the  equipment  of  a  military  array  ?  No.  If  they  had 
looked  for  him  in  any  unusual  place  or  amidst  circumstances 
suited  to  captivate  admiration  by  the  external  a>sociations 
with  which  they  invested  his  person,  their  search  would  have 
ended  in  disappointment.  Three  times,  as  we  read,  was  Jesus 
the  object  of  such  a  curiosity,  and  where  was  he  then  found  ? 
Once,  when  the  Eastern  sages  inquired  after  the  child  whose  star 
had  guided  them  to  the  city  of  David,  they  were  obliged  to  turn 
their  feet  towards  the  little  village  of  Bethlehem,  where  he  lay 
in  a  manger.  Once,  when  the  messengers  of  the  Sanhedrim 
joined  the  crowds  that  thronged  about  the  great  Teacher,  they 
found  him  pronouncing  his  sublime  lessons  of  faith  and  duty  to 
the  multitudes  that  had  congregated  within  the  courts  of  the 
temple,  amidst  the  bustle  and  traffic  and  conversation  that  grew 
out  of  the  recurrence  of  one  of  the  national  festivals.  And  once, 
when  the  disciples  of  John  came  with  questions  suggested  by 
their  own  and  their  master's  doubts,  they  found  him  in  Galilee 
surrounded  by  the  sick,  the  poor,  and  the  miserable,  whom  his 
Divine  word  was  restoring  to  comfort  and  health.  As  we  read 
the  history  of  our  Lord,  from  the  carpenter's  house  at  Nazareth 
or  the  marriage  feast  in  Cana,  to  the  trial  in  Pilate's  hall  or  the 
crucifixion  on  Calvary,  we  observe  the  connection  of  super- 
natural power  and  a  spotless  excellence  with  the  habits  and 
scenes  of  ordinary  life.  In  his  person  the  Gospel  journeyed  and 
tarried,  toiled  and  rested,  with  men, in  their  usual  course  of  life's 


GREAT  PRINCIPLES  IN  SMALL  MATTERS.    495 

engagements.  "He  keepeth  company  with  publicans  and  sin- 
ners," said  his  enemies. 

In  this  respect  our  Lord  was  the  type  of  his  religion,  and  in 
him  was  seen  the  pattern  of  a  Christian  life.  Every  thing  was 
easy  and  natural,  yet  holy  and  Divine.  The  largest  truths  filled 
the  smallest  occasions,  the  sublimest  principles  penetrated  the 
most  familiar  movements,  even  as  the  warmth  of  the  great  orb  of 
day  enters  the  vessels  of  the  least  flower,  and  its  influence  reaches 
to  the  growth  that  springs  up  in  the  gloomiest  cavern.  Now 
the  Christian  must  reflect  the  character  of  his  Master,  and  show 
that  he  understands  his  religion  by  the  union  which  his  life 
shall  exhibit  of  great  principles  with  common  acts.  He  must 
carry  the  truths, 

"Whose  height, 
"Whose  depth  unfathomed,  no  man  knows," 

into  the  relations  and  scenes  which  compose  his  daily  life.  They 
must  control  and  sanctify  every  movement;  and  yet  every  move- 
ment must  be  simple,  easy,  made  as  it  were  unconsciously.  Just 
as  a  man  pursues  his  business  or  a  woman  attends  to  her  domes- 
tic concerns,  without  thinking  what  are  the  purposes  that  deter- 
mine action  in  the  one  case  or  the  other.  These  domestic  affairs, 
this  worldly  business,  must  not  be  neglected,  but  they  must  be 
Christianized,  spiritualized,  beatified.  Christianity  is  a  religion 
for  the  earth  and  the  world,  for  home  and  society,  a  religion 
which  the  statesman,  the  merchant,  and  the  day-laborer,  the 
rich  man,  the  poor  man,  the  sick  man,  the  mother,  the  girl,  the 
child,  must  all  feel  in  its  continually  restraining,  moulding,  and 
quickening  influence,  as  they  fulfil  the  engagements  of  their 
several  positions.  Christianity  did  not  build  the  convent.  Her 
structure  is  a  cheerful  and  well-ordered  home ;  the  school-house 
is  of  h^r  rearing  as  much  as  the  Church.  She  frequents  the 
market-place  and  walks  in  the  streets  with  a  bright  and  gentle 
face.  Every-day  life  is  the  scene  in  which  she  exhibits  her 
triumph  over  the  hostile  influences  of  sense  and  sin.  In  the 
midst  of  the  world  she  makes  those  who  follow  her  counsels 
unworldly. 


496  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

How?  By  bringing  great  principles  into  connection  with 
little  matters.  By  making  the  trader  as  scrupulous  in  regard  to 
the  least  dishonesty  as  he  would  be  concerning  a  great  fraud, 
through  the  principle  of  integrity  which  Christian  faith  implants 
in  his  breast.  By  preventing  the  mechanic  from  gaining  cir- 
cuitously  that  which  he  would  be  ashamed  to  secure  by  direct 
means,  through  the  conviction  it  establishes  within  him  that 
there  is  an  intrinsic  right  and  wrong  in  conduct,  w^hich  the  mere 
form  of  proceeding  cannot  change.  By  keeping  the  farmer  in 
strict  habits  of  self-control,  through  the  presence  in  his  mind  of 
the  thought  that  nothing  is  hidden  from  God.  By  rendering  us 
sincere,  gentle,  and  disinterested  in  our  domestic  offices,  through 
the  sentiment  of  love  which  it  infuses  into  the  heart.  By  lead- 
ing us  to  care  for  all  human  want  through  the  benevolent  sym- 
pathies which  it  awakens  and  preserves  fresh  within  us.  By 
restoring  the  authority  of  conscience  in  all  (juestions  that  can 
arise  respecting  what  should  be  done  or  left  undone.  By  con- 
necting a  recognition  of  a  law  emanating  from  the  highest  source 
in  the  universe  with  the  most  casual  occurrences.  By  giving  to 
the  whole  of  life  a  sacredness  through  the  associations  which  it 
forms  between  present  conduct  and  future  experience.  Chris- 
tianity does  not  send  a  man  away  from  what  is  pleasant  or  trite 
that  he  may  seek  out  some  new  situation  in  which  to  manifest 
the  forms  of  faith,  but  it  tells  him  to  do  riglit  and  be  a  Christian 
just  here  and  now.  The  flagrant  sin  it  rebukes,  and  so  does  it 
condemn  the  least  transgression.  It  knows  of  no  venial  offence, 
and  it  pays  little  regard  to  the  distinctions  which  human  laws 
are  obliged  to  admit.  Evil  speaking  is  wicked,  whether  it  break 
forth  in  malediction,  or  expend  its  force  in  petty  calumnies. 
Passion  is  sinful,  whether  it  lead  to  murder  or  to  the  suppres- 
sion of  kindness.  Desire,  if  freely  indulged,  is  as  criminal  as 
gratification.  The  whole  heart  is  brought  under  the  influence 
of  religious  truth  through  the  principle  of  faith  ;  the  whole  life, 
through  the  principle  of  obedience. 

Such  is  the  general  action  of  Christianity.  Let  me  now  present 
one  or  two  illustrations  of  the  connection  which  it  establishes 


GREAT  PRINCIPLES  IN  SMALL  MATTERS.    497 

between  the  grandest  truths  and  the  most  familiar  circumstances. 
The  truth  that  there  is  a  God,  —  let  us  take  this,  the  primary- 
truth,  the  largest  truth,  the  sublimest,  the  most  sacred  of  all  truths. 
Who  can  embrace  its  extent ;  who  fathom  its  meanin<j  ?  New- 
ton  stood  abashed  before  its  greatness  ;  the  angels  do  not  com- 
prehend its  full  import.  God,  —  the  name  we  give  to  the 
Infinite  One,  the  Heavenly  Father,  the  Omniscient  Judge,  the 
Holy  and  the  Everlasting.  This  name,  and  all  that  it  suggests  to 
a  devout  mind,  Christianity  associates  with  the  most  familiar  part 
of  our  experience;  with  all  we  see,  enjoy,  suffer,  do.  For  it 
teaches  us  that  God  is  the  author  of  every  thing,  and  His  provi- 
dence the  life  of  all  life  ;  that  the  flight  of  the  bird  or  the  fall  of 
the  raindrop  is  an  evidence  of  His  power ;  that  every  pulsation 
of  our  heart  proclaims  His  care ;  that  each  thought  which  darts 
through  our  minds  declares  how  much  we  are  indebted  to  Him. 
There  is  nothing  beautiful  without  God,  from  the  tint  on  the 
violet's  leaf  to  the  holiness  that  adorns  the  spirit.  There  is 
nothing  grand  in  nature  or  in  character  without  Him.  There  is 
no  happiness  which  does  not  flow  (through  how  many  channels !) 
from  Him,  the  primal  Source.  There  is  no  sorrow  with  which 
His  love  is  not  connected  as  its  origin  or  its  consolation.  There 
is  no  act  that  we  can  perform,  nor  purpose  that  we  can  meditate, 
that  can  be  separated  fiom  Him  who  has  spread  the  law  of  duty 
over  our  whole  existence. 

Duty  let  us  take,  then,  as  our  second  illustration.  The  idea  of 
duty  our  religion  binds  in  with  all  our  mental  and  physical 
experience.  For,  in  revealing  the  moral  character  of  our  present 
life,  the  responsibleness  under  which  we  are  placed  in  the  midst 
of  the  circumstances  that  surround  us,  the  obligation  to  make 
every  thing  subservient  to  the  growth  and  perfection  of  character, 
it  compels  the  true  disciple,  the  man  who  believes  with  a 
steady  faith,  to  recognize  a  law  that  touches  on  every  relation 
and  act  of  his  bein^f.  He  can  do  nothinij  so  small  that  it 
has  not  a  moral  value.  He  can  hide  liimself  in  no  solitude 
so  deep,  that  obligation  will  not  follow  him  or  spring  up  at  his 
side.     He  may  shut  out  the  world  from  his  private  apartment, 

82 


498  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

and  bury  himself  within  its  seclusion;  yet  from  every  side  of 
that  apartment  may  be  seen  the  word  from  whose  force  he  has 
endeavored  to  escape,  shining  upon  him  in  letters  of  supernatural 
light,  —  that  fearful  word  ought,  —  not  more  fearful  in  its  positive 
than  in  its  interrogative  form,  —  ought  he  to  live  in  such  retire- 
ment ?  or,  if  he  may  leave  all  the  common  scenes  of  exposure, 
what  ought  he  to  do  in  his  privacy  ?  Capacity  and  opportunity 
only  change  the  character  of  duty :  no  effort  or  choice  of  ours 
can  destroy  it.  It  is  omnipresent ;  it  is  immortal ;  it  is  supreme  ; 
for  it  is  the  will  and  voice  of  God.  Nothing  stands  on  neutral 
ground,  midway  between  right  and  wrong.  There  is  no  such 
neutral  ground.  As  reasonably  might  we  speak  of  a  region  of 
space  between  our  earth  and  the  sun  where  the  force  of  attrac- 
tion ceases.  The  moral  universe  is  held  together  by  the  law  of 
duty,  penetrating  every  part  and  every  moment,  as  truly  as  the 
material  creation  is  held  together  by  the  law  which  keeps  worlds 
and  stars  from  plunging  iuto  ruin. 

We  all  lie  within  the  embrace  of  the  great  principle  of  moral 
responsibleness,  and  out  of  its  prolific  energy  springs  another 
grand  truth  which  accommodates  itself  to  the  most  trivial  offices 
of  our  being.  We  are  fellow-creatures,  who  owe  one  another 
disinterested  kindness.  The  sentiment  of  love  Christianity 
blends  with  all  the  intercourse  of  life.  It  tells  us  that  we  live 
in  and  for  one  another,  —  the  rich  for  the  poor,  and  the  poor  for 
the  rich  ;  the  man  of  thoughtful  study  for  the  man  of  active 
pursuits,  and  the  latter  for  the  former.  The  African  for  the 
American,  and  the  American  for  the  African  ;  for  it  makes  neigh- 
borhood a  synonyme  for  humanity,  and  the  world  the  sphere  over 
which  our  generous  sympathies  should  be  extended.  "  Love," 
that  is  another  word  of  vast  significance,  as  large  even  as  the 
name  of  the  Infinite,  for  God  is  love.  Put  a  Christian  interpre- 
tation on  the  word,  take  it  out  of  the  limitations  within  which 
romance  and  poetry,  to  say  nothing  of  our  selfishness,  endea- 
vor to  confine  it,  make  it  mean  all  that  Christ  meant  by  it 
when  he  said,  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself,"  all 
that  the  apostle  meant  when  he  said,  "  Love  is  the  fulfdling  of 


GREAT  PRINCIPLES  IN  SMALL  MATTERS.    499 

the  law,"  —  how  does  it  spread  itself  over  all  human  interests, 
all  human  affairs  !  A  Christian  must  love  the  man  whom  he 
meets  in  the  street,  stranger  though  he  be  ;  the  beggar  who 
comes  to  his  door,  squalid  and  sinful ;  the  individual  with 
whom  he  transacts  liis  business,  be  he  who  he  may.  And  in  the 
exercise  of  love,  conscious  of  the  feelings  which  an  unselfish 
justice  and  a  ready  sympathy  shall  beget,  he  will  deal  with  his 
fellow-man  of  whatever  class,  and  on  whatever  occasion,  as  with 
a  brother,  —  one  whom  he  must  benefit  if  he  can,  whom  he  must 
never  injure,  never  neglect. 

For  his  fellow-man  shares  with  him  the  world  which  the 
Creator  has  appointed  for  the  education  of  the  human  race, 
and  the  immortality  which  the  Creator  has  bestowed  on  every 
one  of  that  race ;  and  the  world  must  not  be  made  sad,  nor  im- 
mortality be  made  an  occasion  of  dread,  instead  of  a  subject  of 
rejoicing,  by  man's  inhumanity  or  unfaithfulness  to  man. 

Let  this  truth  of  immortality  suggest  one  more  illustration  of 
what  we  have  said  concerning  the  union  of  the  highest  subject 
of  thought  with  the  most  ordinary  portions  of  experience. 
Christianity  instructs  us  to  regard  the  future  as  a  development 
and  consequence  of  the  present.  Man  not  only  will  live  again, 
but  his  life  hereafter  will  be  shaped  and  colored  by  his  life  here. 
The  law  of  retribution,  twin  companion  of  the  law  of  duty,  follows 
us  wherever  we  go.  Our  right  or  wrong  conduct  involves  issues 
running  on  through  an  unmeasured  futurity.  The  little  drops  that 
fall  upon  the  bosom  of  the  Mississippi,  each  no  bigger  than  a 
child's  tear,  swell  its  current,  till  it  pours  its  volume  of  waters 
in  majesty  and  blessing  into  the  ocean.  The  pebble  that  obtains 
a  release  from  its  position  in  the  dam  which  holds  those  waters 
in  check  offers  an  entrance  to  the  stream,  which  creates  a  wider 
and  wider  opening,  till  the  whole  structure  falls  before  the  violence 
of  the  current,  that  now  spreads  devastation  over  a  compact  city. 
From  the  acorn  grows  the  oak,  from  the  oak  the  forest ;  and,  on 
the  other  haud,  from  the  seed  which  the  wind  lets  fall  on  a 
grassy  field  springs  up  the  weed,  of  the  weed  a  pernicious  vege- 
tation, and  the  field  is  given  over  to  its  ugly  and  unprofitable 


500  EZRA    STILES  GANNETT. 

growth.  So  in  the  moral  world.  So  in  the  field  of  individual 
experience,  the  least  act  well  performed  on  the  one  hand,  the 
slightest  departure  from  right  doing  on  the  other,  may  beget  re- 
sults that  shall  spread  themselves  over  years  and  ages.  Time  is 
the  beginning  of  eternity,  and  each  moment  in  time  sends  out 
threads  that  bind  it  to  the  remotest  period  of  eternity. 

Now  in  all  this  connection  of  the  great  with  the  small,  the 
highest  principles  with  the  lowest  departments  of  life,  the  largest 
truth  with  the  least  act,  let  us  notice  the  perfect  wisdom  of  God. 

Life  is  made  up  oi particulars.  Tliere  are  few  great  occasions 
in  any  one's  life.  Most  of  our  experience  must  be  common,  famil- 
iar, ordinary  ;  and  if  religious  truths  influenced  only  the  extraor- 
dinary moments  that  fall  into  our  experience,  it  would  be  with 
us  as  it  would  be  with  the  earth,  did  the  sun-light  rest  on  the  tops 
of  the  mountains,  but  left  the  plains  and  valleys  which  constitute 
the  greater  part  of  its  surface  in  darkness.  Few  persons  can 
make  themselves  remarkable  by  what  they  shall  accomplish  or 
undertake.  Most  of  us  must  occupy  situations  of  no  more  than 
usual  interest  or  importance.  But  few  can  be  rulers  or  mission- 
aries. A  world  full  of  distinguished  people  would  be  a  very  un- 
comfortable, perhaps  it  would  not  be  a  habitable,  world.  ^  "We 
do  not  want  a  world  made  up  of  such  men  as  Howard  or  Her- 
schel,  men  great  in  science  or  great  in  philanthropy.  Let  every 
one  be  great  in  goodness,  —  but  that  is  a  grandeur  which  may 
be  acquired  in  the  humblest  discharge  of  duty.  And  this  is  the 
truth  so  precious  which  Christ  brought  forth  to  human  view,  — 
that  in  the  humblest  employment  we  may  build  up  a  perfect 
character  by  fidelity  to  the  circumstances  in  which  Providence 
has  placed  us,  and  obedience  to  those  Divine  principles  which 
the  gospel  of  Christ  makes  the  guide  and  staff  of  life. 

Again,  our  enjoyments  come  not  from  unusual  events. 
Novelty  imparts  a  zest  to  delight ;  but  constant  novelty  would 
weary  the  heart,  as  a  succession  of  rich  viands  soon  offends  or 
vitiates  the  taste.  Our  familiar  joys  are  our  best  joys,  —  those 
which  fill  our  homes  with  cheerfulness,  and  make  daily  life 
pleasant.     We  do  not  stop  to  analyze  our  satisfaction ;  and  it  is 


GREAT  PRINCIPLES  IN  SMALL  MATTERS.    501 

well  that  we  do  not,  for  we  should  then  act  like  children  who 
tear  their  pretty  toys  in  pieces  to  learn  how  they  are  made :  but, 
if  we  did,  we  should  find  they  arise  out  of  our  usual  relations, 
out  of  the  necessary  dependence  and  labor  of  lif3,  out  of  what 
God  lias  spread  in  profusion  around  us,  and  wliat  we  are  con- 
tinually, though  unconsciously,  converting  into  the  material  of 
happiness,  even  as  our  lungs  convert  the  air  they  breathe  into  the 
nourishment  of  our  being.  Is  it  not  agreeable  to  our  own  judg- 
ment of  what  a  wise  Father  would  arrange,  that  the  great  prin- 
ciples by  which  we  must  be  controlled  should  connect  themselves 
with  the  little  rills  that  fertilize  the  heart,  rather  than  with  the 
torrents  that  may  sometimes  pour  themselves  over  our  conscious- 
ness with  a  force  of  joy  almost  too  great  for  us  to  bear? 

Yet  again,  our  heavy  sorrows  do  not  come  with  every  hour,  or 
cloud  every  sunrise.  Storms  do  not  compose  the  years,  nor  does 
the  east  wind  prevail  through  the  greater  number  of  the  months. 
The  storms  have  their  use,  and  the  east  wind  accomplishes  a 
beneficent  end ;  and  so  do  out  great  afflictions  render  us  a  ser- 
vice for  which  they  are  needed.  But  our  frequent  ti-ials  are 
light  trials :  they  are  the  little  annoyances  of  every  moment,  that 
require  patience  towards  man  as  well  as  faith  towards  God. 
Now  what  so  proper,  or  so  needful,  as  that  we  should  bring  the 
eternal  laws  of  the  moral  world,  the  elements  of  religion,  into 
connection  with  these  details  of  experience,  that  so  we  may  be 
steadfast,  immovable,  always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the 
Lord  ?  The  crimes  of  men  are  not  so  numerous  as  their  vices  ; 
their  vices  are  not  so  numerous  as  their  foibles.  The  foible 
grows  into  the  vice;  the  vice  ripens  into  the  crime.  And  so, 
because  we  neglect  the  germ,  the  fruit  is  bitter  and  noxious. 
Let  us  begin  with  truth  an4  duty  and  God,  let  us  make  Christ, 
the  ruler  of  conscience  and  the  pattern  of  life  in  little  things, 
and  we  shall  both  frame  and  cement  an  excellence  which  shall 
deprive  the  trials  that  now  disturb  our  peace  of  all  power,  like 
walls  of  stone  upon  which  poisoned  arrows  fall  harmless. 

We  may  now  perceive  both  the  justice  and  the  extent  of  the 
law  of  which  our  text  is  the  expression,  "  He  that  is  faithful 


502  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

in  that  which  is  least  is  foithful  also  in  much,  and  he  that  is  un- 
just in  the  least  is  unjust  also  in  much ;  "  a  law  inseparable  from 
the  rectitude  of  the  Divine  Providence,  and  conducive  to  the  wel- 
fare of  man.  I  will  but  add  two  brief  remarks,  which  are  sug- 
gested as  of  most  practical  value.  First,  in  regard  to  ourselves. 
Let  it  be  our  object  to  establish  Christian  habits.  Our  habits 
constitute  our  character.  Let  them  be  pervaded  and  moulded 
by  the  religion  of  Christ.  Let  our  faith  become  habitual,  our 
piety  habitual,  our  benevolence  habitual.  Let  duty  become  a 
liabit.     Then  shall  we  be  safe ;  then  will  life  be  pleasant  and  holy. 

Secondly,  in  regard  to  our  children.  Let  us  implant  in  them 
right  principles.  They  must  form  their  own  habits,  but  we  can  fix 
their  principles.  Out  of  the  latter  will  arise  the  former.  Let 
us  establish  in  their  hearts  the  great  principles  of  piety  and  duty, 
and  they  will  be  prepared  to  meet  the  temptations  and  bear  the 
responsibilities  of  life. 

With  good  habits  growing  out  of  right  principles  in  ourselves, 
and  right  principles  growing  up  into  good  habits  in  our  children, 
why  should  we  not  be  as  happy  as  in  this  life  of  vicissitude 
man  can  ever  be  ?  We  shall  have  nothing  to  fear  on  this  side 
the  grave,  since  we  shall  be  prepared  for  all  change  in  outward 
condition  by  the  inward  stability  we  shall  maintain.  Nor  shall 
we  have  reason  to  dread  what  we  may  encounter  hereafter ;  since, 
having  been  faithful  in  that  which  is  least,  as  it  arose  under  the 
various  relations  of  life,  we  shall  receive  the  approbation  of  Him 
whose  welcome  voice  shall  pronounce  the  sentence :  "  Well  done, 
good  and  f^iithful  servant:  thou  hast  been  faithful  over  a  few 
things,  I  will  make  thee  ruler  over  many  things :  enter  thou  into 
the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 


1858. 

"LIFE.*' 

The  doctrine  of  "Life,"  though  it  has  not  received  from 
Christian  men  the  attention  to  which  from  its  place  in  the  Gos- 
pel it  is  entitled,  is  really  the  heart  of  the  Gospel,  the  innermost 


''LIFE.''  503 

of  what  may  justly  be  styled  the  doctrines  of  grace.  "  I  am 
come,"  said  Jesus,  "  that  they  miglit  have  life,  and  that  they 
might  have  it  more  abundantly."  How  could  he  have  described 
the  design  of  his  mission  in  plainer  words  ?  Abundance  of  life, 
—  growth,  force,  satisfaction,  —  all  that  enters  into  our  idea  of  a 
vigorous  vitality,  —  this  is  the  ultimate  purpose  of  the  Divine 
economy  in  Christ.  And  that  life  the  Christian  realizes  through 
a  faith  which  enables  him  to  appropriate  the  Saviour's  words  to 
his  own  use,  while  a  work  of  assimilation  to  his  Master  is  going 
on  within  him.  Blessed  dependence  of  the  believer  on  Him  in 
whom  are  such  treasures  of  heavenly  grace,  that,  though  the  world 
should  through  uncounted  generations  live  upon  him,  his  ability 
to  meet  the  demands  of  their  souls  would  be  as  great  as  at  the 
first!  He  only  will  be  slow  to  accept  this  statement  who  is 
unable  to  see  in  spiritual  truth  an  infinite  capacity  of  reproduc- 
tion ;  of  which  Jesus  having  the  control,  the  miracle  of  the  loaves 
becomes  the  type  of  a  Divine  work  perpetually  renewed,  and 
thousands  are  fed,  and  countless  thousands  will  be  fed,  so  long  as 
there  are  any  that  need. 

I  have  beheld  many  of  the  fairest  works  of  the  Creative  Hand, 
I  have  admired,  too,  the  productions  of  human  skill ;  but  never, 
never  among  the  works  of  man  or  God,  have  I  seen  that  which 
enkindled  such  admiration  or  delight  as  the  result  of  the  com- 
bined agencies  of  Divine  and  human  will  in  the  character  of  one 
who,  through  a  living  union  with  Christ,  had  translated  "the 
beauty  of  holiness  "  from  a  figure  of  speech  to  a  visible  and  un- 
fading reality. 

What  a  grand  spectacle  is  a  true  life,  —  severe  in  its  rectitude, 
sublime  in  its  purpose,  beneficent  in  its  action ;  a  life  devoted  to 
God,  though  spent  among  men ;  a  life  sincere  and  therefore 
fresh,  laborious  and  therefore  useful,  above  low  aims  and  mean 
arts ;  wise  in  its  faith,  generous  in  its  ardor,  sweet  in  its  spirit, 
devout  in  its  aspiration !  How  do  the  honors  and  praises  and 
pleasures  of  the  world  fade  into  dimness  before  the  splendor  of 
a  righteousness  like  this  !  What  a  depth  of  Divine  philosophy 
was    there   in    that   saying,   commonplace   as  it  may   seem  to 


504  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

lis  who  have  heard  it  read  fi-om  our  childhood,  "  A  man's  life 
consisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  which  he  pos- 
sesseth"!  Now  can  we  understand  that  oft  recurrincr  lancruanje 
of  the  New  Testament,  which  portrays  the  believer's  privilege  in 
terms  which  the  wildest  enthusiasm  seems  to  have  borrowed 
from  the  boldest  rhetoric,  —  men  and  women  caught  up  from 
obscurity  and  constituted  ''  kings  and  priests  unto  God,"  sinners 
lifted  from  the  dust  and  called  to  have  their  "fellowship  with 
the  Father  and  the  Son,"  the  poor  assured  that  all  things  are 
theirs,  tlie  miserable  filled  with  a  peace  such  as  the  world  can 
neither  give  nor  take  away,  the  friendless  made  "  heirs  of  God 
and  joint-heirs  with  Christ."  What  a  legacy  to  Christendom 
was  language  like  this !  What  a  burthen  of  blessing  for  us  to 
have  received !  And  when  I  think  that  we  owe  this  "  inherit- 
ance of  the  saints,"  into  which  we  enter  through  faith,  to  Him 
who  died  that  we  might  live,  I  am  eager  to  join  in  the  Apoca- 
lyptic ascription  of  glory  and  dominion  "  unto  him  that  loved  us, 
and  has  washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood." 

My  friends,  as  I  re;»d  the  religious  history  of  past  times  or  of 
our  own,  it  devolves  on  us,  and  those  who  agree  with  us  in  re- 
ligious belief,  rather  than  on  any  other  portion  of  the  Church, 
to  proclaim  the  truth  whicli  has  formed  the  subject  of  our  re- 
marks. B}'  the  concurrence  of  all  other  denominations  in  up- 
holding some  dogma  or  practice,  some  specific  confession  or 
experience,  as  the  test  of  Christian  discipleship,  it  has  fallen 
to  us  to  vindicate  the  supremacy  of  Christ's  glorious  doctrine  of 
Life.  In  the  articles  of  organization  adopted  not  long  ago  by 
a  Unitarian  Society  in  one  of  the  Western  States  of  the  American 
Union,  occurs  the  statement,  that  "  believing  salvation  rests,  not 
on  superficial  observance  of  rites,  nor  on  intellectual  assent  to 
creeds,  nor  on  any  arbitrary  decree,  but,  under  the  grace  of  God, 
on  the  Tightness  of  the  ruling  affection,  on  humble  faithfulness 
of  life,  and  integral  goodness  of  character,"  its  members  desired 
to  "go  forth  and  live  the  Christian  life,  not  as  a  form,  but  as  a 
principle,  with  a  warmer  philanthropy,  a  holier  consecration,  a 
deeper  piety,  a  more  united  front,  than  they  had  yet  shown,  in 


''LIFE.'"  505 

the  fear  and  affection  of  God,  in  the  faith  and  love  of  Christ." 
That  was  language  worthy  of  the  men  from  whom  it  came, 
worthy  of  the  doctrine  which  they  and  we  hold  to  be  "  the 
truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus."  It  is  on  such  a  confession  as  this  that 
we  must  build  the  hope  of  visible  growth  or  denominational 
force.  That  a  sect  may  acquire  stability  or  exert  a  control  over 
opinion,  it  must  rest  on  an  affirmative  basis.  A  negative  posi- 
tion can  preserve  it  from  decay  only  so  long  as  it  shall  be  quick- 
ened by  a  spirit  of  antagonism,  which  after  a  time,  thank  God, 
must  lose  its  energy.  Antagonism  is  an  active,  but  not  a  life- 
giving  principle.  The  soul  can  be  nourished  on  it  no  more  than 
the  body  can  thrive  on  the  stimulus  of  strong  drink.  For  the 
support  of  a  denomination,  it  must  likewise  have  something 
more  positive  than  love  of  freedom  ;  for,  noble  as  is  the  vindica- 
tion of  the  soul's  right  to  be  taught  by  Christ  himself,  freedom 
is  but  the  removal  of  obstacles  to  the  enjoyment  of  that  right. 
In  its  essence  it  is  denial,  or  the  negation  of  restraint ;  and  there- 
fore to  build  up  a  denomination  with  the  cement  of  liberty  is 
like  laying  masonry  with  quicksilver,  —  the  parts  will  not  cohere. 
It  is  the  office  of  each  sect  to  represent  some  truth  of  which  it 
is  the  discoverer  or  the  guardian.  Its  place  in  the  Church  can 
be  accounted  for  in  no  other  way ;  and,  unless  it  be  loyal  to  the 
truth  of  which  it  is  the  representative,  it  must  perish. 

Now  I  say  that  the  truth  which  distinguishes  our  religious 
body  is  that  of  which  our  text  is  the  concise  yet  sufficient  ex- 
pression ;  which  other  portions  of  the  Church,  indeed,  have  not 
always  failed  to  recognize  as  a  part  of  the  gospel,  —  how  could 
they,  when  it  was  so  plain?  —  but  which  they  have  treated  with 
comparative  neglect.  It  is  our  office  to  rescue  it  from  sucli 
neglect.  I  claim  for  it  priority  and  sovereignty.  At  once 
doctrine  and  commandment,  it  covers  the  whole  of  faith 
and  the  whole  of  duty.  Men  have  done  well  to  lay  stress  on 
the  atonement,  for  without  it  the  soul  is  lost ;  but  the  atone- 
ment is  only  the  initial  experience,  of  which  life  is  the  continu- 
ance and  consummation.  They  have  done  well  to  warn  the 
sinner  that  his  ways  are  the  ways  of  death ;  but  the  great  evil 


'506  EZRA    STILES  GANNETT. 

of  that  death  is  that  it  is  the  absence  of  life.  They  have  done 
well  to  turn  the  thought  of  the  believer  on  a  future  world,  that 
he  might  not  be  seduced  by  the  temptations  of  the  present ;  but 
it  is  a  higher  view  of  heaven  to  regard  it  as  the  expansion  of 
that  elementary  life  of  which  the  soul  may  become  conscious 
here,  than  to  represent  it  as  distant,  remote,  intangible.  Con- 
tinuous life,  ever  more  vigorous,  ever  more  abundant,  this  is  the 
promise  of  Christ  to  his  disciples.  Under  a  just  interpretation 
of  this  promise,  the  world  becomes  a  scene  of  spiritual  education  i 
Our  common  employments,  reflecting  the  radiance  of  heaven, 
are  chanp:ed  into  saintly  offices,  as  the  windows  of  our  houses 
are  turned  into  sheets  of  gold  by  the  western  light.  Religion, 
disowning  nothing  that  is  necessary  or  beautiful,  recognizes  the 
worth  of  familiar  sympathies  and  social  pleasures.  As  this  house, 
dedicated  to  the  worship  of  God,  receives  the  or!iament  of  these 
gracefid  vines  and  brilliant  flowers  as  in  harmony  with  its  sacred 
character,  so  may  the  consecrated  life  be  adorned  with  the  fair 
and  rich  courtesies  of  neighborhood  and  brotherly  kindness. 
Our  whole  life,  outward  and  inward,  may  be  "  hidden  with 
Christ  in  God,"  because  it  shall  all  —  all,  from  meanest  toil  to 
holiest  prayer  —  be  that  living  sacrifice,  of  which  Christ  is  both 
the  author  and  the  type. 

As  I  think  of  the  power  which  resides  in  this  truth  to  lay 
hold  on  the  consciences  and  hearts  of  men,  T  long  to  see,  not 
here  and  there  one,  but  many  who  shall  take  it  up  and  make 
themselves  benefactors  of  the  people,  by  saying  unto  them.  In 
the  name  of  Christ  the  Lord,  I  command  you  to  live.  That 
which  you  now  call  life  is  not  worthy  of  the  name.  What  a 
mean  and  wearisome  thing  it  is ;  what  a  burthen  and  a  curse 
you  make  of  your  existence !  It  is  not  life  to  bury  one's  self  in 
worldliness  or  to  di-own  one's  self  in  pleasure.  Man  of  business, 
I  tell  you  to  pour  a  new  vitality  into  your  affairs,  —  the  vitality 
of  faith,  which  shall  render  success  inevitable,  however  small 
your  pecuniary  gain.  Care-worn  woman,  bright-eyed  girl,  I 
tell  you  to  infuse  into  your  plans  for  the  day  and  the  year  the 
spirit  of  immortality,  that  you  may  neither  now  nor  hereafter 


IMPORTANCE   OF  OPINIONS.  507 

phie  over  inevitable  disappointment.  Theologian,  ritualist,  for- 
malist, cast  away  your  traditions,  your  ceremonies,  your  conven- 
tional morals,  your  ascetic  piety,  and  accept  now,  now,  the  life 
everlasting. 

Oh  for  the  men  who  shall  preach  "  Christ  the  life  of  the 
world,"  with  a  zeal  ready  to  cry  out.  Woe  is  me,  if  I  preach  not 
the  living  gospel!  O  God!  raise  thou  up  another  Wesley, 
another  Luther,  another  Paul,  with  the  gospel  of  life  in  their 
hearts  and  on  their  tongues,  to  send  it  through  the  land,  across 
the  sea,  around  the  earth!  O  Christ!  inspire  thou  another 
John  with  thine  own  temper,  that  his  words,  like  those  of  thine 
apostle,  may  be  full  of  persuasion,  declaring  that  "  God  so  loved 
us,  that  He  sent  His  only  begotten  Sou  into  the  world,  that  we 
mif^^ht  live  throu<Th  him." 

"  That  we  might  live  through  him."  Bear  these  words  in 
your  remembrance,  believer,  wherever  you  go :  they  shall  be 
your  defence  and  your  solace.  Repeat  them  in  the  ears  of  your 
fellow-men :  the  weary  heart  of  society  will  listen  and  rejoice. 
Pronounce  them  where  sin  gathers  its  votaries,  and  the  dead 
shall  start  into  life.  Inscribe  them  on  the  tomb,  and  our  burial- 
places  shall  be  known  as  the  gateways  of  immortality. 


1849-1850. 


IMPORTANCE   OF   OPINIONS   AS   THE   BASIS 
OF   A   RELIGIOUS   LIFE. 

Every  man  has  a  theology  of  his  own.  He  may  not  know 
it ;  he  may  not  know  the  meaning  of  the  word  ;  but  what  then  ? 
Every  man  has  his  theory  of  health,  though  he  may  never  have 
heard  of  physiology  or  dietetics.  He  believes  that  he  must  eat 
and  sleep  and  work,  or  that  he  mtist  avoid  this  or  that  indul- 
gence, if  he  would  be  well,  and  he  practises  accordingly ;  yet, 
were  you  to  ask  him  what  hygienic  treatment  he  pursued,  he 
might  stare  at  you  in  amazement.     It  has  been  said  that  words 


508  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT, 

are  things ;  but  people  often  get  tlie  things  without  the  words 
thev  are  called  by.  "  What  can  a  poor  woman,"  it  is  asked, 
"  who  must  work  all  the  day  to  earn  bread  for  her  children,  and 
at  night  perhaps  can  only  with  much  painstaking  read  a  chapter 
in  her  Bible,  know  of  the  science  of  theology  ?  "What  does  she 
need  to  know  of  it  ?  Is  she  not  the  better  without  it  ?  "  Of 
theology  as  a  science  she  knows  nothing,  and  needs  to  know 
nothing ;  but  of  that  which  constitutes  the  substance  of  theology 
she  knows  a  great  deal.  Of  the  principles  which  regal  '^e  the 
transmission  of  caloric  from  her  scanty  fire  through  the  .itmos- 
phere  to  her  limbs,  or  determine  the  fitness  of  one  sort  of  gar- 
ment rather  than  another  to  protect  her  against  the  winter's  cold, 
she  is  profoundly  ignorant;  but  with  the  great  facts  and  rela- 
tions that  exist  between  the  fuel  she  consumes,  the  clothing  she 
wears,  and  her  own  physical  condition,  she  is  entirely  conversant. 
So  are  the  great  spiritual  facts  and  relations,  which  are  best 
ascertained  through  experience,  familiar  to  her,  although  she  be 
a  stranger  to  the  reasonings  that  might  explain,  or  the  principles 
that  underlie,  those  facts  and  relations.  Take  away  her  knowl- 
edge of  these,  her  heart-knowledge  of  them,  and  you  leave  her  to 
a  destitution  of  which  her  former  poverty  was  not  even  a  type, 
a  wretchedness  of  which  she  had  had  no  conception  before,  because 
you  take  from  her  her  knowledge  of  God's  providence  and  will, 
her  faith  in  God,  her  theology. 

No,  it  may  be  said  h(^rs  is  what  you  have  called  it,  heart- 
knowledge,  while  theology  belongs  to  the  mind.  In  the  first 
instance,  certainly ;  and  the  lowly  Christian  of  whom  we  have 
spoken  received  it  into  her  heart  through  her  mind.  The  differ- 
ence between  her  and  the  man  who  has  legitimated  his  conclu- 
sions  by  reasoning  and  study  is  simply  this,  —  that  the  ideas 
which  she  has  received  pass  at  once  into  her  heart,  and  there 
become  sentiments  and  habits,  and  as  such,  rather  than  as  ideas, 
are  entertained  by  her,  while  with  him  they  remain  long,  per- 
haps always,  among  the  furniture  of  his  mind,  and  are  there 
examined  as  mental  conceptions.  He  is  a  theologian,  she  is  not ; 
but  she  has  a  theology  as  well  as  he,  and  with  her  as  well  as 


IMPORTANCE   OF  OPINIONS.  509 

with  him  its  foundation  is  truth  apprehended  by  the  intellect. 
Ideas  are  essential  to  religion,  —  its  basis,  its  groundwork,  its 
fountain. 

There  is  a  kind  of  discourse  on  this  subject,  which  —  I  would 
say  with  all  possible  respect  for  those  who  use  it  —  appears  to 
me  to  be  either  void  of  meaning  or  full  of  mischief  Religion  is 
sentiment,  we  are  told,  and  not  doctrine ;  love,  and  not  belief; 
spiritual  experience,  and  not  intellectual  discrimination.  Now 
what  sentiment  is  there  which  does  not  have  its  origin  in 
thought,  what  love  that  does  not  flow  from  a  belief  concern- 
ing the  object  of  the  affection,  what  inward  experience  that 
can  be  disjoined  from  all  intellectual  activity?  The  instinctive 
love  of  the  parent  recognizes  truths  respecting  her  child  which 
determine  the  character  and  intensity  of  her  affection ;  the  love 
of  the  child,  the  moment  it  passes  beyond  a  mere  animal  cling- 
ing to  the  care  that  nourishes  it,  contemplates  certain  realities 
on  which  its  little  mind  passes  judgment.  Our  moral  senti- 
ments do  not  disown  their  dependence  on  the  mind.  That  is  the 
background  on  which  they  are  formed,  as  truly  as  the  figures  on 
the  painter's  canvas  derive  their  life  from  what  he  puts  behind 
them.  Our  aspirations  after  purity  and  bliss,  after  heaven  and 
God,  spring  out  of  our  ideas  concerning  God  and  heaven  and 
holiness  and  happiness.  The  seraph's  rapture  is  the  fire  of  an 
intellectual  conception.  A  religion  of  mere  sentiment,  like  the 
watery  appearances  of  the  desert,  will  be  found  neither  to  afford 
refreshment  nor  to  have  any  substance.  A  purely  aesthetic 
piety,  like  the  gorgeousness  of  the  clouds,  neither  gives  warmth 
nor  promises  permanence;  it  is  not  worth  talking  about,  in  prose 
or  in  poetry. 

Again,  we  are  told  that  religion  is  life  and  not  dogma,  obe- 
dience and  not  faith ;  and  we  assent  to  the  remark,  when  inter- 
preted as  common  sense  and  experience  should  teach  us  to 
receive  it.  The  life  is  the  essential  thing ;  but  what  consistency 
or  practical  worth  will  there  be  in  a  life  which  is  not  governed 
by  fixed  rules  or  proper  motives  ?  and  what  are  rules  or  motives 
but  the  conclusions  at  which  the  mind  arrives  in  its  inquiries 


510  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT, 

after  duty  ?  Obedience  is  what  God  requires ;  but  how  shall 
we  become  obedient,  if  we  remain  in  ignorance  alike  of  the 
Being  whom  we  should  obey  and  the  service  we  should  render  ? 
and  how  can  such  ignorance  be  removed,  except  by  implanting 
in  the  mind  certain  notions  respecting  God  and  His  law  ?  In 
the  last  analysis,  the  religious  life  must  be  reduced  to  a  practical 
use  of  certain  convictions  which  the  mind  accepts.  Tiiey  may 
be  many  or  few,  they  may  be  correct  or  incorrect;  but  on  their 
character  and  strength  will  depend  the  growth,  stability,  and 
reality  of  the  religious  life.  .  .  . 

But  the  sharp  discrimination  of  religious  ideas,  it  is  said,  opens 
the  door  to  sectarianism  with  all  its  evils.  Better  to  live  in  some 
indistinctness  of  thought  than  to  covet  a  precision  of  faith  that 
will  only  separate  us  from  our  Christian  brethren.  Not  so,  I 
say.  It  is  not  better  to  dwell  in  a  mist  than  in  a  clear  atmos- 
phere, even  if  we  must  go  a  little  distance  from  oui-  neighbors 
to  get  the  blue  sky.  If  the  possession  of  a  well-formed  belief 
separate  us  from  others  in  some  of  the  conclusions  we  may 
adopt,  it  unites  us  to  them  through  the  respect  and  confidence 
which  are  mutually  entertained  by  those  who  know  that  each 
has  been  faithful  in  his  inquiries,  and  values  his  faith  because  it 
is  the  result  of  honest  investigation.  Of  all  foolish  notions,  I 
know  of  none  more  idle  than  the  error,  which  some  people 
defend,  that  Christians  will  come  nearer  to  one  another  when 
they  cease  from  an  attempt  to  construct  for  themselves  a  precise 
and  positive  faith.  How  do  men  that  live  in  darkness  find  out 
that  they  are  near  one  another,  except  as  they  may  jostle,  or  by 
their  cries  affright,  one  another?  It  is  only  when  each  one 
knows  where  he  stands  and  where  others  stand  that  they  can 
really  measure  the  distance  between  them  ;  and  then  it  will 
probably  be  found  to  be  less  than  they  had  supposed.  But  :his 
dread  of  sectarianism  which  almost  makes  monomaniacs  of  some 
persons,  it  is  only  an  example  of  the  vagueness  of  thought  in 
which  they  delight.  ...  I  believe  in  sectarianism  as  a  legiti- 
mate consequence  of  an  earnest  faith.  What  a  man  esteems  to 
be  the  gospel  is  his  gospel ;  and  what  he  values  as  God's  most 


IMPORTANCE   OF  OPINIONS.  511 

precious  gift  he  should  be  anxious  to  communicate  to  others. 
This  is  sectarianism,  —  warm  and  practical  attachment  to  a  cer 
tain  interpretation  of  the  Christian  records,  in  which  an  indi 
vidual  agrees  with  some  persons,  and  differs  from  others.  Of 
this  sectarianism  I  wish  the  country  and  the  world  were  full. 
Let  a  man  speak  and  act  as  if  he  prized  what  he  receives  as 
Divine  truth.  Let  him  desire  for  others  a  participation  with 
himself  in  its  comforts  and  hopes.  Let  him  expend  generous  and 
vigorous  effort  in  diffusing  around  him,  through  the  land,  over 
the  world,  the  doctrines  which  he  associates  with  the  being  of  a 
God  and  the  mediation  of  Christ.  Let  him  join  heart  and  hand 
with  those  who  accept  the  same  doctrines ;  and  while  he  loves 
all  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity,  let  his  action  be 
most  strenuous,  his  connection  most  close,  with  those  with  whom 
he  can  act  most  freely,  and  yet  most  cordially.  Such  a  secta- 
rianism as  this  I  should  rejoice  to  see  on  every  side.  It  would 
make  us  all  better  Christians.  It  would  fill  the  earth  with  the 
knowledge  of  the  Lord,  and  carry  out  the  spirit  of  the  prayer 
which  we  learned  in  our  childhood,  —  "  Thy  kingdom  come,"  — 
and  of  that  other  pi-ayer  which  was  uttered  amidst  the  sympa- 
thies of  the  last  night  of  the  Saviour's  ministry,  —  "  I  in  them, 
and  thou  in  me,  that  they  may  be  made  perfect  in  one." 

For  such  a  sectarianism  does  not  produce  bitterness  or  strife ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  nourishes  a  spirit  of  candor  and  Christian 
brotherhood.  It  may  sound  paradoxical,  but  I  believe  it  is  unde- 
niably true,  that  an  enlightened  sectarianism  is  the  root  from 
which  must  spring  a  true  charity ;  because  an  enlightened  secta- 
rianism, being  founded  on  an  intelligent  acquaintance  with  both 
the  principles  and  the  grounds  of  the  belief  which  it  cherishes, 
and  also  with  the  principles  and  grounds  of  the  various  forms  of 
belief  around  it,  cannot  be  betrayed  into  injustice  through  igno- 
rance, nor  be  led  into  a  passionate  defence  of  its  own  positions 
by  a  consciousness  of  inability  to  maintain  them  by  calm  and 
clear  argument.  And,  further  still,  it  allows  and  respects  in 
others  the  rights  which  it  exercises  itself,  and  thinks  all  the 
better  of  a  theological  opponent  for  his  open  and  resolute  vindi- 


512  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

cation  of  his  own  ftiith.  Bigots  are  generally  men  of  narrow 
habits  of  thought,  of  little  study,  and  very  imperfect  theological 
education.  A  man  whoso  conclusions  are  the  result  of  careful 
investigation  will  seldom  be  irritated  by  the  remarks  of  others, 
and  will  never  deny  to  them  the  privilege  of  independent 
thought.  Uncharitableness  and  persecution  have  arisen,  not 
from  men's  holding  definite  opinions  on  religious  subjects,  but 
from  their  attempting  to  impose  those  opinions  on  others,  or 
from  their  maintaining  that  others  must  be  in  sinful  and  fatal 
error,  because  they  differ  from  them.  It  is  the  claim  of  infalli- 
bility, not  the  sincerity  of  personal  conviction,  that  has  filled  the 
Church  with  discord,  and  made  both  Catholic  and  Protestant 
inquisitors.  The  Church  will  be  full  of  love  when  liberty  of 
thought  is  allowed  and  accuracy  of  thought  is  made  an  object  of 
desire.  Every  man  should  be  Orthodox  in  his  own  estima- 
tion, and  every  one  should  let  his  fellow-Christians  call  them- 
selves Orthodox  too.  It  is  not  taking  the  name  ourselves  that 
makes  the  trouble,  but  the  denying  of  the  name  to  others. 

"  Ah,  but  then  there  will  be  sects  !  "  Yes,  there  will  be,  and 
there  always  have  been.  There  were  sects  in  the  first  age  of 
our  religion,  and  there  will  be  sects  to  its  last  age.  And  if  by 
sects  you  mean  companies  of  believers  holding  different  views  of 
truth,  then  there  will  be  sects  in  heaven.  And  I  thank  God  for 
it ;  for  then  there  may  be  improvements,  —  growth  in  knowl- 
edo-e  and  growth  in  love.  What  can  be  more  absurd  than  to 
suppose  that  finite  minds  shall  ever  apprehend  all  the  facts  of 
the  spiritual  universe  alike.  Why,  that  is  to  clothe  them  with 
the  attributes  of  Omniscience.  Paul  and  Peter  did  not  think 
just  alike  when  they  were  engaged  in  preaching  the  Gospel  on 
earth,  nor  do  I  believe  that  their  spiritual  perceptions  are  now 
precisely  alike.     I  hope  heaven  is  not  a  monotone  of  thought. 

Let  us  strive,  then,  to  have  clear  and  settled  opinions  in 
reli""ion.  Away  with  that  wretched  habit  of  indecision  and 
instability  in  regard  to  Christian  doctrines,  which  saps  the  very 
life  of  the  soul.  Disown  it,  discard  it.  It  deprives  us  of  the 
comfort  and  benefit  of  faith.     It  prevents  our  being  believers, 


IMPORTANCE   OF  OPINIONS.  513 

aud  it  hinders  us  from  becoming  inquirers.  It  is  fatal  to  a 
healthy  development  of  the  religious  nature.  It  is  the  modern 
Anti-Christ.  The  vice  of  the  present  day  in  many  neighborhoods 
is  not  sce[)ticism,  but  doctrinal  indifference,  and  that  is  unfaith- 
fulness to  our  own  souls  and  ingratitude  to  God,  who  has  given 
us  the  truth  which  those  souls  need,  but  which  some  among 
us  appear  unwilling  to  accept.  I  do  not  ask  men  to  believe  as 
I  believe,  but  I  implore  them  to  have  a  belief  of  their  own, 
whether  it  be  like  mine  or  not.  I  can  respect  a  whole-souled 
Catholic,  but  I  can  only  pity  a  half- Protestant.  I  can  see  some- 
thing to  admire  in  genuine  and  hearty  Calvinism,  but  I  can  only 
condemn  and  deplore  equivocal  Unitarianism.  Be  something, 
for  the  truth's  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  your  own  honor  and 
your  own  hope.  Be  a  Trinitarian  or  a  Unitarian.  You  cannot 
be  both,  you  cannot  be  neither.  See  which  you  are.  Believe 
in  the  natural  depravity  of  man  and  the  vicarious  atonement  of 
Christ,  or  disbelieve  them.  You  cannot  hold  to  both.  No  man 
can  serve  two  masters,  and  no  man  can  hold  two  opposite  opinions. 
Do  you  say  you  have  no  opinions?  Then  you  are  much  to  be 
pitied.  Do  you  say  you  wish  to  have  none  ?  Then  you  are 
much  to  be  censured.  Do  you  say  you  are  a  Christian  and  that 
is  all  you  wish  to  be,  then  we  rejoice  with  you  that  you  are 
something.  But  to  be  a  Christian  is  more  than  to  take  the 
name  or  to  believe  in  the  divinity  of  Christ's  mission.  "  He 
that  heareth  these  sayings  of  mine,"  are  his  words,  —  "  he  that 
heareth  these  sayings  of  mine,  and  doeth  them,  I  will  liken  him 
unto  a  wise  man,  who  built  his  house  upon  a  rock."  We  must 
keep  his  sayings ;  and,  that  we  may  keep  them  in  any  profitable 
or  piactical  sense,  we  must  understand  them.  That  is  what  he 
means  by  "  hearing  "  them,  —  discovering  their  import  and  ac- 
cepting them  as  true.  Without  faith  we  cannot  please  God. 
And  without  faith  we  cannot  obey  Christ.  Personal  religion 
has  no  solid  or  durable  basis,  except  in  s^^iritual  convictions ; 
and  these  convictions  are  the  soul's  private  property,  its  well- 
digested  belief,  its  interpretation  of  Divine  truth,  its  religious 
opinions. 


514  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

WHAT  UNITARIANS  BELIEVE. 

1845. 

I  SPEAK  not  with  any  authority  except  such  as  belongs  to 
honest  private  conviction,  and  a  somewhat  large  acquaintance 
witli  the  opinions  entertained  by  other  Unitarian  believers  here 
and  elsewhere.  They  have  no  accepted  creed  which  I  may 
quote,  no  formularies  of  faith  nor  symbolical  books  which  they 
recognize  as  containing  the  only  accredited  exposition  of  their 
views,  and  no  ecclesiastical  body  from  which  such  an  exposition 
might  emanate.  The  right  and  duty  of  personal  inquiry,  which 
are  the  elementary  principles  of  their  religious  state,  preclude 
any  attempt  to  utter  other  than  private  persuasions  or  the  im- 
pressions which  a  wide  and  careful  observation  may  have  given. 
Such  observation  will  lead  any  one  to  a  knowledge  of  certain 
great  doctrines  which  are  held  in  common  by  Unitarians  in 
America  and  in  Europe,  and  will  show  that  they  accord  in 
respect  to  the  grounds  of  their  belief,  and  in  their  dissent  from 
many  popular  representations  of  the  Gospel. 

What  are  the  truths  of  Unitarian  Christianity?  What  do 
Unitarians  believe  ? 

We  believe  in  God,  as  the  Supreme,  Perfect,  and  Infinite 
Being,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  Author  of  all  life.  Source  of 
every  blessing.  Searcher  of  hearts,  and  Judge  of  men.  We 
believe  in  His  universal,  constant,  and  righteous  providence, 
through  which  alone  the  frame-work  of  the  creation  and  the 
processes  of  animate  or  inanimate  existence  are  sustained.  We 
belie've  in  His  moral  government,  which  He  exercises  over  all 
beings  endowed  with  intellectual  or  moral  capacities,  and  which, 
as  it  is  rightfully  exercised,  so  is  inflexibly  administered.  We 
believe  in  His  paternal  character,  in  which  He  has  been  pleased 
to  reveal  Himself  to  our  admiration  and  love ;  a  character 
which  never  shows  Him  to  us  as  weakly  indulgent  or  capriciously 
tender,  but  as  always  consistent  with  His  own  perfections  while 


WHAT  UNITARIANS  BELIEVE.  515 

full  of  parental  regard  towards  men.  We  believe  in  the  requi- 
sitions of  duty  which  He  has  promulgated,  by  which  are  laid 
upon  us  the  obligations  of  outward  and  inward  righteousness, 
and  it  is  made  incumbent  on  us  to  cultivate  purity,  devotion, 
disinterestedness,  and  the  harmonious  expansion  of  our  nature, 
that  the  result  may  be  an  excellence  wliich  shall  redound  to  the 
glory  of  God.  We  believe  in  His  mercy,  which  enables  Him, 
without  impairing  the  integrity  of  His  government  or  subverting 
the  original  conditions  of  His  favor,  to  forgive  the  penitent  sin- 
ner and  admit  the  renewed  soul  to  an  inheritance  of  eternal  life. 
We  believe  in  His  revelations,  which  He  has  made  by  those  of 
old  times  who  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  — ■ 
Moses  and  the  Divinely  inspired  teachers  of  the  Jewish  people, 
and  in  a  later  age  by  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  His  love  and  the 
Messenger  of  His  grace.  We  believe  that  God  is  one  in  every 
sense  in  which  the  term  can  be  applied  to  Him,  —  one  in  nature, 
in  person,  in  character,  in  revelation ;  and  therefore  we  are  Uni- 
tarians. 

We  believe  that  Jesus  was  the  Christ, —  the  Anointed  and 
Sent  of  God,  whose  truth  he  proclaimed,  whose  authority  he 
represented,  whose  love  he  unfolded  ;  and  therefore  we  are 
Christians.  We  believe  that  Jesus  Christ  came  on  a  special 
mission  to  our  world,  —  to  instruct  the  ignorant,  to  save  the  sin- 
ful, and  to  give  assurance  of  immortality  to  those  who  were  sub- 
ject to  death ;  that  such  a  Teacher  and  Redeemer  was  needed ; 
that  he  spake  as  never  man  spake,  lived  as  never  man  lived, 
and  died  as  never  man  died.  We  read  the  history  of  his  life 
with  mingled  admiration  and  gratitude.  We  are  moved  by  his 
cross  to  exercises  of  faith,  penitence,  and  hope.  We  rejoice  in 
his  resurrection,  and  celebrate  him  as  Head  of  his  Church,  the 
authoritative  Expounder  of  the  Divine  will,  the  fimltless  Pattern 
of  the  Christian  character,  the  Manifestation  and  Pledge  of  the 
true  life. 

We  believe  that  man  is  a  free  and  responsible  being,  capable 
of  rising  to  successive  heights  of  virtue,  or  of  falling  into  deeper 
and  deeper  degradation  ;  that  sin  is  his  ruin,  and  faith  in  spiritual 


516  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

and  eternal  realities  the  means  of  his  salvation ;  that  if  he  sin, 
it  is  through  choice  or  negligence,  but  that  in  working  out  his 
own  salvation  he  needs  the  Divine  assistance.  We  believe  that 
man  in  his  individual  person  is  from  early  childhood,  through 
the  force  of  appetite,  the  disadvantage  of  ignorance,  and  the 
strength  of  temptation,  liable  to  moral  corruption  ;  that  social 
life  is  in  many  of  its  forms  artificial,  and  in  many  of  its  influences 
injurious ;  and  that  both  the  individual  and  society  must  be 
regenerated  by  the  action  of  Christian  truth. 

We  believe  that  all  life,  private  and  public,  all  human  powers 
and  relations,  all  thought,  feeling,  and  activity,  should  be  brought 
under  the  control  of  religious  principle  and  be  pervaded  by 
Christian  sentiment.  We  believe  that  piety  is  the  only  sure 
foundation  of  morality,  and  morality  the  needed  evidence  of 
piety.  We  believe  that  "  perfection  from  weakness  through  pro- 
gress "  is  the  law  of  life  for  man ;  and  that  this  law  can  be  kept 
only  where  an  humble  heart  is  joined  with  a  resolute  mind  and 
an  earnest  faith.  We  believe  that  men  should  love  and  serve 
one  another,  while  all  love  the  Heavenly  Father,  and  follow  the 
Lord  Jesus  to  a  common  glory. 

We  believe  in  human  immortality  and  a  righteous  retribution 
after  death;  when  they  who  have  lived  in  obedience  or  have 
reconciled  themselves  to  God  through  sincere  repentance  shall 
enter  upon  a  nobler  fruition  of  life,  while  they  who  have  been 
disobedient  and  impenitent  shall  realize  the  consequences  of 
their  folly  in  shame  and  suffering. 

We  believe  in  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments, 
as  containing  the  authentic  records  of  God's  wonderful  and 
gracious  ways,  seen  in  the  history  of  His  ancient  people,  and  in 
the  miraculous  works  and  Divine  teachings  of  Jesus  and  his 
Apostles,  and  to  these  Scriptures  we  appeal  as  the  decisive 
authority  upon  questions  of  faith  or  duty,  interpreting  them  in 
the  devout  exercise  of  that  reason  through  which  alone  we  are 
cajiable  of  receiving  a  communication  from  Heaven. 

We  believe  in  the  Christian  Church,  as  a  consequence  of  the 
labors  and  sufferings  by  which  Christ  has  gathered  unto  himself, 


WHAT   UNITARIANS  BELIEVE.  517 

out  of  many  nations  and  communions,  "a  peculiar  people,"  em- 
bracing his  Gospel  and  cherishing  his  spirit,  —  the  Church  on 
earth,  with  its  ministry,  its  ordinances  and  its  responsibilities, 
the  anticipation  and  promise  of  the  Church  in  heaven. 

Such  are  the  prominent  truths  of  Unitarian  Christianity,  T 
conceive,  as  held  by  those  who  adopt  this  name  as  the  designa- 
tion of  their  faith,  and  who,  however  they  may  disagree  on  ques- 
tions of  inferior  moment,  would  probably  concur  in  this  exhibition 
of  the  articles  of  their  belief. 

1849. 

There  is  a  Unitarian  theology.  It  includes  our  faith  in  God, 
in  Christ,  in  man ;  in  the  moral  character  and  the  final  issues  of 
the  present  life ;  in  the  Father  whom  we  worship,  in  the  Son 
whom  we  honor,  in  the  Holy  Spirit  which  we  receive ;  in  our 
own  capacity,  and  frailty;  in  the  vileness  and  peril  of  sin;  in 
the  Gospel  as  a  Divine  gift;  in  progress  as  the  law  of  man's 
being,  and  in  perfection  as  its  end ;  in  spiritual  renovation,  and 
spiritual  experience ;  in  love  as  the  great  principle  of  sanctifica- 
tion,  and  in  eternal  life  as  its  consequence  and  reward.  I  would 
not  be  guilty  of  the  presumption  of  forming  a  creed  for  others ; 
but  is  there  one  of  us,  brethren,  that  would  hesitate  to  acknowl- 
edge these  as  articles  of  his  belief?  They  constitute  the  frame- 
work of  our  theology.  They  include  the  revealed,  fundamental, 
vital  truths  of  religion. 

Where  is  your  Unitarian  theology?  it  is  said.  In  the  Bible, 
we  reply.  In  our  hearts,  again  we  reply.  And  I  would  add, 
Here,  in  the  doctrines  of  which  I  have  now  given  the  briefest 
statement.  The  existence,  perfection,  and  unity  of  God,  the 
universality  and  tenderness  of  His  providence,  the  integrity  of  His 
government,  the  Divine  authority  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  per- 
petual obligation  of  obedience,  the  efficacy  of  repentance,  the 
exercise  of  mercy  as  sealed  to  the  believer  in  the  blood  of  the 
cross,  the  certainty  of  retribution,  the  promise  of  immortality, — 
are  these  empty  words  or  disconnected  phrases  ?  Is  there  no 
substance  nor  consistency  in  these  forms  of  thought  ?     We  have 


518  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

a  theology,  —  a  definite,  compact  theology.  Besides  its  reason- 
ableness and  its  Scriptural  origin,  in  both  which  respects  we 
claim  for  our  faith  the  superiority  over  other  forms  of  belief, 
it  has  the  other  three  marks  by  which  we  distinguish  a  sound 
and  true  theology  from  that  which  is  false :  it  is  positive,  con- 
sistent, and  efficacious. 

A  positive  theology.  It  consists  in  affirmation,  not  in  denial. 
"  The  Unitarians  have  only  a  negative  faith,"  say  religious  jour- 
nalists and  Christian  preachers  all  over  the  country ;  and  the 
people  believe  them.  And  yet  a  more  palpable  falsehood  never 
came  from  the  pen  or  tongue  of  mortal  man  !  Our  theology  at 
this  very  moment  is  better  settled  than  that  of  half  the  Protestant 
sects  about  us.  On  every  one  of  the  great  points  of  religious 
interest,  our  conceptions  are  not  less  distinct,  and  are  much  more 
uniform,  than  those  which  we  find  in  other  denominations.  And 
a  consistent  as  well  as  a  positive  theology.  Its  truths  do  not 
contradict  one  another,  but  have  the  essential  characteristic  of 
a  science,  —  that  they  support  and  depend  upon  one  another. 
Around  the  central  fact  of  man's  being,  our  great  truths  of 
Divine  beneficence,  mercy,  and  judgment,  and  all  the  associated 
doctrines  of  Christian  faith,  arrange  themselves  by  a  law,  I  will 
not  say,  of  moral  crystallization,  but  of  spiritual  attraction.  But 
most  of  all  do  I  value  our  theological  tenets  for  their  spiritual 
quality  and  efficacy.  Their  moral  power  is  their  glory.  They 
place  truths  before  the  soul  in  an  attitude  which  compels  its 
submission ;  truths  which  quicken  and  invigorate  the  con- 
science, warm  and  cleanse  the  heart,  at  once  control  and  sustain 
the  will.  They  are  "  the  jDower  of  God,  and  the  wisdom  of  God 
unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  believeth." 

But  again,  if  any  one  ask  what  are  its  truths,  the  answer  may 
be  that  they  are  the  truths  on  which  the  various  bodies  of 
Christians  concur.  They  are  the  common  Christianity  of  all 
sects.  By  our  positive  views  of  doctrine,  we  are  brought  into 
sympathy  with  the  universal  Church.  Where,  then,  is  our  pecu- 
liar theology  ?  Why,  just  here.  The  peculiarity  of  our  belief 
consists  in  our  making  the  Christianity  of  all  denominations  the 


WHAT  UNITARIANS  BELIEVE,  519 

true  exposition  of  the  Gospel.  It  is  painful  to  remark  how  slow 
men  are  in  perceiving  that  our  elevation  of  the  current  opinions 
of  the  Church  into  the  place  of  essential  truths  of  religion,  and 
our  refusal  to  allow  any  other  opinions  to  share  this  distinction, 
may  constitute  as  decisive  a  peculiarity  as  any  novelty  of  state- 
ment or  vehemence  of  expression.  It  is  peculiar  to  us.  it  distin- 
guishes us,  that  we  make  the  catholic  belief  the  true  belief.  If 
we  alone  maintain  the  sufficiency  of  this  belief,  what  can  more 
distinctly  mark  us  than  this  very  fact  ?  The  substantial  differ- 
ence between  us  and  other  Christians,  I  conceive,  lies  not  so 
much  in  diversity  of  opinion  upon  certain  questions  of  dogmatic 
theology  as  in  the  recognition  by  us  of  the  right  of  every  sin- 
cere follower  of  Jesus  to  the  name  and  hope  of  a  Christian,  to 
whatever  denomination  he  may  belong,  while  others  require  the 
exercise  or  expression  of  faith  in  certain  tenets  peculiar  to  them- 
selves. We  of  course  prefer  our  own  interpretation  of  Scripture, 
and  wish  that  every  one  might  see  with  us  that  it  is  the  proper 
interpretation  ;  we  consider  many  of  the  errors  that  prevail 
around  us  pernicious.  But  we  do  not  think  that  any  one,  whose 
heart  is  searched  and  his  life  controlled  by  the  great  truths 
which  the  various  Christian  bodies  accept,  can  be  in  fatal  error. 
The  essential  theology,  therefore,  according  to  us,  is  found  in 
all  these  bodies ;  and  this  essential  theology,  being,  as  I  have 
said,  that  which  remains  after  we  have  thrown  away  what  gives 
a  special  character  to  the  symbols  of  these  several  bodies,  our 
peculiarity  consists  in  making  the  common  faith  of  the  Church 
the  essential  faith  of  the  believer. 

This  seems  to  members  of  other  communions  a  very  meagre 
faith,  —  nothing  but  what  ever}'  Christian  believes  !  Once  con- 
currence with  those  who  constituted  the  household  of  the  saints 
was  regarded  as  a  just  ground  of  satisfaction  ;  but  now,  urdess 
one  add  something  to  the  C(immon  inheritance,  he  is  thought  to 
have  "  denied  the  faith  "  and  to  be  "  worse  than  an  infidel."  It 
is  made  of  little  account  to  adore  the  incomprehensible  greatness 
of  God,  unless  one  also  believes  in  a  certain  mode  of  the  Divine 
existence ;  to  prostrate  one's  self  in  gratitude  before  the  cross  of 


520  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

the  Redeemer,  unless  he  accept  a  particular  explanation  of  the 
efficacy  of  his  death ;  to  tremble  under  the  sense  of  moral  re- 
sponsibleness  and  the  consciousness  of  sin,  unless  he  admit  that 
we  are  wholly  ruined,  and  incapable  of  ourselves  to  take  a  step 
towards  a  holy  life !  How  is  it  possible  to  put  greater  dishonor 
on  the  fundamental  truths  of  religion,  than  to  pronounce  them, 
not  only  logically  incomplete,  but  morally  inadequate?  .  .  . 

Attempts  have  been  made  again  and  again  to  take  our  love  of 
freedom  as  the  basis  of  union :  but  it  is  too  broad  a  basis  ;  it 
occupies  too  much  ground  for  the  superstructure.     Some  of  us 
prefer  the  title  of  Liberal  Christians  to  any  other  designation, 
because  it  expresses  our  candor,  and  especially  our  attachment  to 
the  great,  miscalled  Protestant,  principle  of  the  right  of  private 
judgment.     But  it  is  not  the  name  by  which  we  may  best  be 
described ;   it  does  not   define,  does  not  limit  us  enough.      If 
love  of  religious  liberty  be  the  ground  of  our  denominational 
union,  then  Christians  of  every  denomination  may  belong  to  us ; 
for  there  are  many  in  every  church  who  prize  their  own  freedom 
as  dearly,  and  are  as  prompt  to  respect  the  rights  of  others,  as 
we.     Nay,  men  of  no  Christian  denomination  may  belong  to  us  ; 
for  the  love  of  mental  freedom  may  burn  in  the  breasts  of  those 
who  have  not  entered  into  visible  connection  with  any  body  of 
believers.     Nay,  further,  free-thinkers  of  every  name  and  every 
class,  men  who  stand  in  antagonism  to  every  thing  but  liberty, 
may  belong  to  us ;  for  they  may  all  be  actuated  by  a  sincere 
regard  for  the  rights  of  thought  and  of  conscience.     Now  I  have 
no  objection  to  a  union  of  all  sorts  of  men  on  this  basis.     It  may 
have  its  advantages  and  its  pleasures,  but  the  union  which  we 
need  is  of  a  different  kind.    Our  sympathy  and  co-operation  must 
have  a  basis  of  doctrinal  agreement.     I  care  little  for  the  name 
we  may  take  or  be  known  by ;  perhaps  it  was  an  unwise  choice 
which,  in  its  result,  has  doomed  us  to  be  called,  if  we  are  called 
by  any  distinctive  appellation,  Unitarians.     But  that  our  union, 
our  existence  as  a  body  acting  together  in  mutual  confidence  and 
for  certain  great  purposes,  must  rest  on  our  theological  persua- 
sions, appears  to  me  just  as  clear  as  that  the  union  of  the  States 


WHAT   UNITARIANS  BELIEVE.  521 

which  compose  oui"  republic  must  rest,  not  on  the  common  love 
of  civil  liberty  which  animates  the  hearts  of  the  people,  nor  on 
any  circumstances  of  geographical  position  or  historical  associa- 
tion, but  on  the  principles,  the  integrity,  and  the  authority  of 
that  Constitution  which  the  people  of  these  United  States  have 
agreed  to  take  as  the  expression  and  security  of  their  political 
connection. 

1871. 

Not  in  any  spirit  of  arrogance  or  injustice  to  other  denomina- 
tions are  these  views  presented,  but  rather  in  the  exercise  of  that 
same  right  and  the  discharge  of  that  same  duty  which  we  would 
accord  to  all  other  sects ;  believing  that  every  Christian  body, 
large  or  small,  has  a  right,  and  is  bound,  to  promulgate  its 
opinions,  to  make  them,  if  possible,  intelligible  to  the  community, 
and  to  circulate  them  as  widely  as  possible,  with  the  hope  of 
bringing  others  to  entertain  the  same  belief  with  themselves. 
Each  denomination,  of  course,  thinks  that  it  holds  the  truth,  or 
it  has  no  right  to  exist.  I  do  not  conceive  that  tiiere  is  any 
impertinence  in  such  assumption.  On  the  contrary,  it  seems  to 
me  that  an  individual  who  does  not  believe  that  he  holds  more 
nearly  the  exact  truth  as  it  is  in  Christ  than  those  who  diifer 
from  him  should  retire  at  once  to  his  closet,  open  his  Bible,  and 
ask  God  to  teach  him  what  is  truth.  We  undertake  to  expound 
the  way  of  God,  as  we  think,  more  perfectly  —  that  is,  with  a 
nearer  approach  to  a  full  and  just  statement  of  religious  truth  — 
than  other  denominations.  This  is  all  we  propose  to  do.  Not 
to  assail  them ;  surely  not  to  misrepresent  them,  nor  to  discour- 
age them,  if  it  were  possible  to  throw  discouragement  upon  their 
labors. 

OBJECTIONS    answered:    A    COMMON    FAITH. 

But,  in  any  such  attempt,  we  meet  at  once  with  an  objection 
which  I  wish  for  a  moment  to  consider.  It  is  said  that  Unita- 
rians do  not  agree  among  themselves,  and  therefore  that  they 


522  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

cannot  give  any  oommon  statement  of  their  faith.  Is  it  in  fact 
fatally  true  of  our  body  that  we  are  so  disintegrated  that  we  are 
not  bound  together  by  any  sympathies  of  faith  ?  Is  it,  indeed, 
more  true  of  us,  if  we  would  look  beneath  the  surface,  and  go 
behind  verbal  confessions,  than  of  other  religious  bodies,  who, 
(God  help  their  conscience^  !  ),  accepting  a  common  phraseology, 
put  very  different  interpretations  upon  the  same  words?  Is 
there  not  a  substantial  agreement  among  Unitarians?  Are  there, 
not  certain  great  fundamental  truths  which  they  universally,  or,' 
at  least,  generally,  accept  ?  Are  there  not  points  of  difference 
between  themselves  and  other  religious  bodies  which  may  be 
properly  and  intelligently  stated  ?  The  Boston  Board  of  Trade 
once  passed  through  a  very  warm  discussion  in  regai'd  to  a  cer- 
tain subject  which  had  been  brought  before  them.  They  dif- 
fered,—  differed  earnestly,  as  honest,  intelligent  men  should  differ. 
But,  if  I  should  thence  infer  that  there  were  not  certain  great 
underlying  principles  in  regard  to  trade  and  business  on  which 
the  Board  of  Trade  concurred,  I  should  make  a  sad  mistake. 
So  we  may  come  and  give  you  what  is  the  prevalent  doctrine 
amongst  us ;  and,  if  any  one  dissents  from  it,  allow  him  not  only 
the  right  of  dissent,  but  the  opportunity,  if  we  may,  of  express- 
ing that  dissent. 

THE    RIGHT    OF    PRIVATE    JUDGMENT. 

But  the  objection  is  pressed  still  further.  It  is  said,  "  You 
Unitarians  cannot  agree  upon  any  common  statement  of  belief, 
because  you  allow  the  right  of  private  judgment.  Y^ou  say  that 
every  man  may  and  must  decide  for  himself;  that  he  must  read 
the  Bible  with  his  own  eyes,  draw  thence  his  own  conclusions, 
frame  them  into  his  own  creed,  if  he  is  willing  to  have  a  creed, 
and  then  he  must  stand  by  that,  whether  others  will  concur  with 
him  or  rebuke  him."  Yes,  we  do  stand  on  the  right  and  duty 
of  private  judgment ;  a  right  which  we  will  not  attempt  to  evade, 
a  duty  which  we  shall  not,  I  hope,  neglect ;  granting  it  to  every 
one  else,  while  we  claim  it  and  exercise  it  for  ourselves.  And 
in  doing  this  we  but  follow  noble  examples.     We  are  Protes- 


WHAT   UNITARIANS  BELIEVE,  523 

tants  of  the  Protestants,  as  truly  as  Paul  was  "  a  Hebrew  of  the 
Hebrews."  And  from  this  principle  of  private  judgment,  of 
Christian  liberty,  —  the  corner-stone,  we  are  willing  to  admit,  of  all 
real  Christian  faith  and  all  true  Christian  action,  —  from  this  prin- 
ciple our  fixthers  drew,  and  we  still  draw,  attachment  to  that 
form  ol  ecclesiastical  organization  which  alone  we  accept  for 
our  churches.  We  are  Congregationalists  to  the  very  last  drop 
of  our  hearts'  blood.  We  will  let  no  hierarchy ;  we  will  let  no 
church,  though  it  write  Infallible  over  its  doors ;  we  will  let  no 
pope,  though  his  church  choose  to  write  InfalllhiUty  on  his  brow  ; 
we  will  let  no  company  of  fellow-men,  let  them  be  ever  so  vener- 
able or  honorable,  honest  or  wise ;  we  will  let  no  association  of 
churches,  however  sincere  or  earnest,  —  come  within  the  walls  of 
any  of  our  congregations  and  say  what  shall  be  believed  or  what 
shall  be  done  there.  Every  church  stands  on  its  own  immuni- 
ties, its  own  privileges,  and  its  own  responsibilities.  That  is  Con- 
gregationalism, and  we  are  Congregationalists  ;  not  we  alone,  but 
other  bodies  with  us  larger  still.  But  no  religious  body  in  New 
England  or  elsewhere  can  be  called  more  strictly  a  Congrega- 
tionalist  body  than  we. 

THE    VALUE    OF   FAITH. 

But  there  is  still  another  objection  which  we  must  meet. 
We  are  told  that  we  care  very  little  about  faith.  "  Unita- 
rians," it  is  said,  "talk  about  goodness;  hope  to  be  saved 
by  their  own  good  works,  their  own  good  temper ; "  or,  when 
the  charge  is  more  mildly  brought,  it  is  said  we  exaggerate  the 
importance  of  righteousness,  and  therefore  underrate  the  neces- 
sity of  faith.  With  all  modesty,  and  yet  with  all  firmness, 
such  as  belongs  to  the  subject,  would  I  deny  this  allegation. 
I  say  we  do  not  undervalue  faith,  but  we  hold  it  to  be  es- 
sential to  a  religious  experience  and  to  a  happy  life.  Now 
there  are  two  kinds  of  faith,  and  we  believe  in  the  necessity  of 
both  kinds.  There  is  a  faith  of  the  mind,  an  intellectual  fixith, 
which  receives  certain  truths,  and  endeavors  to  extract  from 
them  their  meaning,  lays  up  that  meaning  among  the  stores  of 


524  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

mental  learning,  and  there  leaves  it.  Now,  that  kind  of  faith, 
though  it  be  called  barren,  is  yet  needful,  for  there  can  he  no 
other  fiiith  without  it.  That  is  the  root.  If  you  plant  a  root  in 
the  ground,  and  cover  it  up,  and  prevent  its  springing  up  and 
spreading  out  and  bringing  forth  fruit,  you  may  say  it  is  of  no 
use;  but  the  root  must  be  in  the  ground,  or  there  will  be  no 
tree,  no  foliage,  and  no  fruit.  So  ideas  must  be  lodged  in  the 
mind,  —  religious  ideas,  —  and  they  are  the  roots  of  character. 
But  we  are  sometimes  reminded  that  religious  sentiment  lies  at 
the  basis  of  religious  life.  It  does  sometimes ;  but  it  is  not  a 
safe  reliance,  friends.  In  the  common  course  of  events,  religious 
sentiment  may  carry  one  forward  toward  perfection  ;  but  in  the 
strain  and  stress  of  life,  and  when  doubts  come  up  and  questions 
arise  on  tliis  side  and  on  that,  we  must  have  thought,  and 
thought  must  grasp  ideas,  and  those  ideas  must  be  religious  ideas, 
and  religious  ideas  make  up  one  kind  of  faith. 

But  there  is  another  kind  of  faith.  To  return  again  to  our 
comparison :  the  root  must  appear  before  the  branch,  and  must 
bring  forth  whatever  is  its  characteristic  product;  and  so  faith 
must  bring  forth  its  own  kind  of  excellence.  Christian  faith 
must  produce  Christian  graces.  The  faith  of  the  Gospel  being 
planted  in  the  soul  must  then  quicken  all  the  energies  of  the  soul 
and  cause  them  to  expand ;  that  is,  to  ripen,  and  to  yield  the 
fruits  of  salvation  and  life.  If  the  faith  of  the  mind  does  not 
thus  become  the  faith  of  the  heart,  the  intelligence,  the  will,  it 
may  be  called,  as  it  was  by  the  Apostle,  a  "  dead  "  faith.  Sen- 
sible men  will  say  it  is  an  absurdity.  We  must  invest  our 
religious  ideas  in  character,  in  life,  and  then  they  will  not  only 
be  safe,  but  they  will  be  profitable. 

We  believe,  then,  in  the  importance  of  faith,  and  we  show  you 
its  twofold  nature.  We  stand  where  Paul  stood,  when  he  said 
that  "  a  man  is  justified  by  faith, "  —  that  is,  made  acceptable 
before  God,  and  led  by  the  Divine  goodness  toward  righteous- 
ness, in  consequence  of  his  belief  in,  and  use  of,  the  great  Chris- 
tian ideas ;  and  we  stand  where  James  stood,  when  he  said  that 
the  mere  mental  reception  of  such  ideas  was  insufficient,  and  that 
we  must  show  their  reality  and  their  power  in  good  works. 


WHAT  UNITARIANS  BELIEVE.  525 

So  do  we,  as  we  hope,  repel  one  and  another  charge,  or 
answer  one  and  another  question ;  and  havmg  thus  endeavored 
in  a  few,  but  I  hope  sufficient,  words,  to  make  out  our  sense  of 
the  need  of  faith,  and  also  to  indicate  its  nature,  it  remains  only 
that  I  should  attempt  to  show  you  the  context  of  Christian  faith 
or  Christian  doctrine,  as  held  by  Unitarians. 

In  our  atlases,  you  know,  there  will  be  an  introductory  map ; 
it  may  be  a  map  of  the  world,  in  which  great  countries  will 
occupy  but  a  little  space ;  it  may  be  a  map  of  the  United  States, 
in  which  the  several  States  will  seem  to  offer  but  little  for  the 
eye  to  study;  and  that  introductory  map  may  be  little  consulted, 
not  nearly  so  much  as  one  of  those  whicli  are  meant  to  represent 
a  smaller  territory ;  and  yet  only  from  such  a  general  map  can 
you  get  an  idea  of  the  relative  proportions  or  of  the  actual  inter- 
nal relations  of  the  different  countries :  and  so  if  I,  by  the 
remarks  which  I  shall  go  on  to  offer,  may  show  you  the  true 
relations  of  our  belief,  though  it  will  be  but  by  touching  here  and 
there,  I  may  possibly  afford  something  of  advantage. 

UNITARIAN    BELIEF    IN    GOD. 

Taking  up,  then,  the  inquiry,  "  What  do  Unitarians  believe  ?  " 
we  first  are  led  to  speak,  both  from  the  importance  and  the 
magnitude  of  the  subject,  concerning  their  faith  in  God.  Unita- 
rians are  Theists.  I  emphasize  the  word,  because  I  would  dis- 
tinguish it  from  other  words.  "  Does  any  one  doubt  that  we 
believe  in  God  ?  "  it  may  be  asked.  I  fear  that  some  do.  But, 
whether  others  entertain  any  doubt  upon  that  question  or  not, 
we  not  only  entertain  no  doubt  ourselves,  but  we  put  the  strong- 
est emphasis  on  our  belief  in  God.  We  are  not  Deists,  because, 
by  a  rather  singular  use  of  the  term,  "  Deism  "  conveys  only  a 
negative  idea.  It  presents  the  thought  that  whoever  may  be 
called  a  Deist  denies  the  Christian  revelation,  and  does  not 
make  prominent  the  fact  that  he  believes  in  God.  And  yet 
"Deist"  and  "Theist"  are  perfectly  synonymous  terms,  one 
derived  from  the  Latin,  the  other  from  the  Greek.  We  are 
not  Deists,  because  we  believe,  as  I  shall  have  occasion  to  say, 


526  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

in  Divine  Revelation.  We  are  not  Pantheists,  because  we 
believe  in  the  Divine  personality.  We  do  not  believe  in  any 
form  of  Pantheism  which  clouds  that  central  truth  of  the  per- 
sonal God^  the  Deity,  incomprehensible  in  His  personal  being, 
and  yet  having  an  intelligence  and  consciousness  and  activity  of 
His  own  towards  all  His  creatures,  towards  all  His  works,  so  that 
they,  springing  from  Him,  depend  upon  Him,  live  in  Him,  while 
He  lives  in  and  through  them ;  yet  He  and  they  are  not  God, 
but  He  alone.  And  we  believe  concerning  this  God  that  He  is 
not  only  infinite  in  His  attributes,  sovereign  in  His  sway,  and 
perfect  in  His  moral  disposition  and  activity,  but  that  He  stands 
to  us  in  the  relation  of  a  father,  so  that  we  may  call  Him,  and 
ought  to  call  Him,  "  Our  Father,"  exercising  towards  us  parental 
inclinations  and  desires,  claiming  from  us  filial  tempers  and  filial 
obedience.  And  this  is  our  great  exhibition  of  the  Divine  charac- 
ter, —  that  it  is  parental.  Other  denominations  may  accept  the 
same  view,  but  we  think  that  we  hold  it  forth  with  a  distinctness 
that  is  seldom  found  in  other  religious  bodies,  and  that  we  ought 
to  take  it  to  our  own  hearts  with  a  faith,  a  gratitude,  and  a  joy 
beyond  words  to  express. 

It  follows  from  this,  our  belief  concerning  God,  that  we  are 
Unitarians,  because  we  believe  not  only  that  God  is  our  Father, 
but  that  the  Father,  and  the  Father  alone,  is  God.  We  repu- 
diate the  word  "  Deism,"  because  it  has  come  to  have,  not  a 
double,  but  a  single  and  a  negative,  meaning.  We  accept  the 
word  "  Unitarian,"  because  it  has  a  double  meaning,  both  posi- 
tive and  negative.  Positive,  because  it  affirms  the  simple  and 
absolute  unity  of  the  Supreme  Being ;  and  negative,  because  it 
excludes  any  other  being  from  a  participation  in  the  Divine 
nature.  We  think  we  are  not  rising  beyond  the  reach  of  human 
thought  when  we  thus  speak  of  God.  If  God  exists  in  a  three- 
fold personality,  it  is  somethiag  which  we  cannot  understand,  and 
therefore  cannot  believe :  we  can  only  repeat  the  words.  If  He 
be  any  other  than  a  single  being  in  His  personality  and  in  His 
consciousness,  we  have  more  than  one  God,  —  which  the  whole 
Christian  world  would  reject  as  a  folly ;  and  therefore,  while  we 


WHAT  UNITARIANS  BELIEVE.  527 

do  not  attempt  to  pry  into  the  mysteries  of  that  infinite  and 
eternal  nature,  we  yet  say  that,  while  God  has  been  pleased  to 
reveal  Himself  to  man,  —  at  least,  is  pleased  to  have  man  stand  in 
certain  relations  of  knowledge,  faith,  and  duty  towards  Him,  —  we 
can  only  accept  this  for  our  definition  of  the  Divine  Being,  that 
He  is  One  in  all  senses  in  which  unity  can  be  predicated  of  an 
intelligent  and  conscious  nature. 

BELIEF    IN    REVELATION    AND    THE    BIBLE. 

It  follows  also  from  our  idea  of  God  as  a  Father,  and  our  belief 
in  Him  as  the  only  primal  source  of  truth  or  spiritual  influence, 
that  we  accept  revelation,  because  this  Being,  who  is  possessed 
of  infinite  attributes,  can  communicate  knowledge  or  influence  of 
one  kind  or  another  to  His  creatures,  and  a  Father  will  be  dis- 
posed to  influence  His  children  by  instruction  and  by  whatever 
methods  He  may  see  fit  to  use  for  drawing  tliem  to  Himself.  God 
reveals  Himself  in  various  ways,  mediate  and  immediate.  Nature 
is  a  revelation  of  its  Author.  The  clouds  as  well  as  the  sun- 
shine, the  flower  that  breathes  its  odor  and  dies,  the  tree  that 
stands  for  centuries,  every  form  of  animal  life,  every  aspect  of 
being,  is  a  revelation  of  the  Creator;  and  science,  as  it  goes 
deeper  in  its  researclies,  as  it  rectifies  its  own  errors,  as  it  comes 
into  closer  intercourse  with  the  physical  universe,  obtains  new 
testimony  concerning  the  being,  the  agency,  the  wisdom,  and  the 
goodness  of  God.  Human  life,  personal  experience,  social  his- 
tory, are  all  methods  which  God  uses  to  reveal  Himself;  and  he 
who  will  listen  to  the  voices  within  himself,  or  will  read  the  page 
of  history  with  an  open  eye,  will  find  much  that  will  help  him, 
if  not  to  understand  God,  at  least  to  trust  in  Him,  and  to  commit 
his  ways  into  the  hands  of  a  most  ftiithful  Creator. 

But  there  are  also  special  and  exceptional  revelations  of  the 
Divine  nature.  Instead  of  repudiating  stich  as  absurd  or  impos- 
sible, we  say  they  are  not  only  possible,  in  consequence  of  the 
possession  of  infinite  resources  by  the  Supreme  Being,  but  they 
are  probable,  in  consequence  of  the  interest  which  fie  feels  in  His 
intelligent  creatures,  whom  He  will  be  ready  to  instruct  when 


528  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

they  fall  into  depths  of  ignorance,  whom  He  will  be  ready  to 
help  when  they  ask  Him  to  bestow  His  assistance  ;  and  therefore 
a  special  revelation,  or  an  occasional  revelation,  interposing  itself 
in  the  affairs  of  this  world,  at  one  time  and  another,  is  not  im- 
probable, but  is  the  most  likely  thing,  if  we  will  deduce  proba- 
bihty  from  the  character  of  God. 

Such  a  revelation  can  be  transmitted  only  through  tradition 
or  through  writing.  We  believe  that  we  have  one  book  which 
contains  a  record  of  facts,  —  special  revelations.  That  book  is 
the  book,  —  the  Bible.  We  believe,  therefore,  in  the  Scriptures. 
We  plant  our  faith  in  the  Scriptures.  We  do  not  desire  to 
reduce  their  authority.  AVe  hold  them  to  be  precious  beyond 
all  price  or  comparison.  But  we  do  not  affirm  that  the  Scrip- 
tures were  written  at  one  time,  or  by  one  hand,  or  that  their 
contents  are  of  equal  authority.  We  believe  that  they  contain 
much  besides  the  records  of  Divine  revelation ;  and  therefore  we 
hold  it  to  be  our  duty  to  search  those  Scriptures,  not  only  that 
we  may  find  what  they  contain  of  the  truth  of  God,  but  that  we 
may  discriminate  between  what  is  of  divine  and  what  is  of 
human  origin.  Instead  of  treating  the  Scriptures  irreverently, 
when  we  thus  endeavor  to  determine  the  comparative  value  of 
different  parts,  we  hold  that  we  pay  them  the  most  sincere  and 
humble  and  grateful  respect.  And  if  in  an  epistle,  —  which 
generally,  or  with  that  single  exception,  we  think  was  written 
by  an  apostle,  —  we  find  a  passage  which  we  believe  from  the 
most  correct  edition  of  the  text,  from  the  most  careful  research, 
and  the  most  candid  inquiry,  was  not  a  product  of  the  apostolic 
inspiration  or  of  the  apostolic  dictation,  we  say  that  we  rever- 
ence the  Bible  and  that  we  stand  up  for  its  truth  and  its  author- 
ity, when  we  refuse  to  let  that  passage  be  read  in  our  churches 
or  in  our  homes  as  a  part  of  the  Divine  Revelation. 

Therefore,  we  not  only  believe  in  special  revelations,  but  we 
value  the  memorial  by  which  such  revelations  have  in  past  times 
been  transmitted  to  our  age,  and  will  go  on  through  all  the  ages 
of  the  future. 


WHAT   UNITARIANS  BELIEVE.  529 


BELIF:F    in    CHRIST. 

From  which  it  follows  that  we  are  Christians.  Not  only 
Theists  and  Unitarians,  but  believers  in  Jesus  Christ,  because 
we  are  believers  in  the  Christian  Scriptures,  in  their  general 
strain  of  narrative  and  instruction.  Jesus  Christ  is  the  central 
figure  alwa>^s  presented  to  the  student  of  the  New  Testament. 
Abstract,  if  it  be  possible,  from  the  New  Testament  all  mention 
of  Jesus  Christ,  and  you  leave  nothing  but  worthless  threads;  — 
I  had  almost  said,  you  leave  not  a  thread  for  the  eye  to  scan. 
Eliminate  the  mission,  the  mystery,  and  the  work  of  Christ  from 
the  Christian  Scriptures,  and  the  Christian  Scriptures  are  not 
worth  binding  nor  buying  nor  reading  nor  having. 

We  believe  in  Christ.  That  is,  we  believe  that  in  the  course 
of  ages,  centuries  past,  One  stood  upon  the  earth  who  spoke  in 
the  name  of  Almighty  God,  the  Heavenly  Father,  and  tau"-ht 
men  how  to  be  good  and  wise  and  happy ;  taught  them  how  to 
turn  from  evil  ways  to  ways  of  purity  and  peace.  We  differ 
about  questions  that  may  afterward  arise  about  Christ.  There 
are  questions  that  we  do  not  think  it  is  necessary  for  us  to 
determine  ;  but  the  great  truth  of  the  special  mission,  and  the 
concurrent  truth  of  a  fall  inspiration,  and  the  subsequent  truth 
of  an  ultimate  authority  connected  with  Christ,  we  hold,  and 
therefore  we  are  Christians. 

BELIEF    IN    man's    SIN    AND    CHRIST's    ATONEMENT. 

And  beins:  thus  believers  in  Jesus  Chri^^t  as  the  messenijer  of 
God  and  the  mediator  between  God  and  man,  we  are  led  at  once 
to  inquire  and  to  learn  the  relations  which  exist  between  him 
and  mankind,  or  between  him  and  the  individual  man  ;  which  is 
simply  saying  that  we  are  led  next  and  necessarily  to  certain 
views  of  human  nature  and  human  condition.  We  are  led  to 
believe  in  man  as  he  was  regarded  by  Clirist,  Avho,  re[)resenting 
the  Divine  wisdom,  could  not  have  mistaken  man's  state.  And 
now,  applying  this  test,  using  this  glass  by  which  to  look  at 
human  nature,  what  do  we  find?     We  find  that  man,  in  the 

34 


530  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

New  Testament,  whether  in  the  teachings  of  Christ,  in  the  com- 
mentaries on  or  explanations  of  those  teachings  by  his  apostles, 
is  reo^arded  as  a  sinner.  The  first  thoui^ht  that  comes  to  the 
reader  of  the  New  Testament  concerning  mankind,  when  he 
opens  this  portion  of  the  Bible,  is  that  man  sinned,  —  has  sinned, 
does  sin,  and  probably  will  sin;  for  the  first  word  of  the  Saviour 
was,  "  Repent  ye ! "  and  the  word  of  his  forerunner  was  the 
same,  "Repent!"  and  the  "baptism  of  repentance"  ^yas  preached 
in  Judea  at  the  beginning,  and  the  Gospel  of  Salvation  was  glad 
tidings  of  deliverance  from  the  dominion  of  sin.  And  there  I 
might  almost  say  Christianity  stops  in  one  direction ;  in  another, 
as  we  shall  see,  it  pursues  its  blessed  course.  But  it  does  not  go, 
as  I  think,  into  the  inquiry  concerning  the  origin  of  human  sin- 
fulness or  the  constituents  of  human  nature.  Christianity  and 
Christ  deal  with  facts.  The  fact  of  sin ;  the  fact  of  human 
need ;  the  fact  of  human  exposure ;  the  fact  of  human  peril. 
All  these  facts  Christianity  accepts  at  once.  They  were  patent 
and  could  not  be  denied.  And  because  they  were  not  only 
patent  but  universal,  and  not  only  undeniable  but  involved 
wretchedness  for  the  race,  Christ  came  and  lived  and  died. 

Now,  without  meaning  to  comjjlain  of  what  is  called  Orthodoxy, 
or  the  popular  religion,  we  do  maintain  that  Orthodoxy  goes 
beyond  Scripture,  and  tries  to  explain  what  Scripture,  if  it  does 
not  leave  untouched,  touches  with  a  very  liglit  hand.  Orthodoxy 
undertakes  to  explain,  for  instance,  the  origin  of  sin.  It  may  tell 
you  it  is  hereditary ;  it  may  tell  you  it  is  not  only  ancestral,  but 
that  it  may  be  traced  back  beyond  the  Deluge  to  the  Garden  of 
Eden ;  or  it  may  give  you  some  other  explanation.  Christianity 
simply  says,  Man  is  a  sinner,  and  must  be  saved.  So  in  regard 
to  the  Atonement,  as  it  is  called  :  the  Orthodox  faith  not  only 
accepts  the  Atonement  and  tries  to  explain  it,  not  only  says  that 
Christ  is  reconciling  man  to  God  and  that  forgiveness  is  an- 
nounced to  us,  but  undertakes  to  show  the  ground  of  that  forgive- 
ness in  the  Divine  Mind.  Now  we  think  we  show  more  humility 
when  we  let  such  questions  stand  by  themselves  for  the  Divine 
Mind  to  answer.     Will  God  forgive  the  siimer  ?  is  the  question  ; 


WHAT  UNITARIANS  BELIEVE.  531 

and  that  question  —  thanks  be  to  the  Divine  mercy  !  —  is  an- 
swered iu  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 

We  believe,  therefore,  in  points  of  faith  which  it  is  said,  un- 
justly, that  we  reject.  For  instance,  as  I  have  just  now  named, 
we  believe  in  the  Atonement.  No  body  of  Christians  in  the 
wide-spread  church  that  takes  the  name  of  Christ  believes  in 
the  Atonement  more  thoroughly,  more  heartily,  more  gratefully 
than  we.  It  is  the  essential  thing  in  the  Gospel,  —  this  recon- 
ciliation of  rebel  man,  of  the  hard  heart,  of  the  impenitent  soul, 
or  of  the  suffering  and  aching  spirit,  conscious  of  its  needs,  to 
the  Heavenly  Father.  That  is  the  Atonement  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament, and  we  believe  in  it  as  we  believe  in  God  himself. 

We  believe  in  the  Cross  of  Christ.  We  believe  in  Ilim  who 
died,  "the  just  for  the  unjust,  that  he  might  bring  us  to  God;" 
who  suffered  the  agony  of  crucifixion,  that  he  might  not  only 
bear  witness  to  his  own  fidelity  and  finish  the  work  which  was 
given  him  to  do,  but  that  he  might  address  such  persuasions  to 
the  cold  heart,  to  the  conscience  of  man,  to  his  moral  sensibilities 
and  sympathies,  that  he  would  wake  from  the  sleep  of  evil,  from 
the  death  of  sin,  and  rise  in  Christ  to  a  new  life.  We  believe 
in  the  efficacy  of  the  Cross. 

BELIEF    IN    REGENERATION    AND    RETRIBUTION. 

We  believe  in  regeneration.  What  is  regeneration  ?  Observe 
Christ's  doctrine  concerning  regeneration,  when  he  talked  to 
Nicodemus  :  that  a  man  must  become  a  new  creature,  must  be 
"  new-born."  Can  it  be  better  explained  than  by  the  Apostle, 
when  he  says  :  "  that  ye  put  off  concerning  the  former  conversa- 
tion the  old  man,  which  is  corrupt  according  to  the  deceitful 
lusts^;  and  be  renewed  in  the  spirit  of  your  mind;  and  that  ye 
put  on  the  new  man,"  —  being  "born  again,"  says  Christ, — 
"  which  after  God  is  created  in  righteousness  and  true  holiness  "  ? 
We  believe  in  regeneration.  We  believe  in  that  change.  We 
believe  that  change  must  take  place  with  tlie  sinner,  or  he  must 
suffer  the  penalty  of  his  transgression,  and  go  down  to  ruin. 
And  therefore  we  believe  in  retribution.     We  believe  that  every 


532  EZRA    STILES    GANNETT. 

sin  has  its  penalty  bound  to  it  by  the  eternal  decree  of  Omnipo- 
tence and  by  the  eternal  law  of  love.  We  believe  that  sin  must 
be  punished,  because  God  loves  the  sinner,  —  not  his  sin,  but 
the  sinner ;  and  therefore,  as  he  loved  the  vrorld  when  it  was 
"  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,"  and  sent  His  dear  Son  to  die 
for  it,  so  God  loves  the  sinner  in  his  impenitence  and  unbelief, 
aad  will  put  him  to  trouble,  to  suffering,  to  anguish,  here  or 
hereafter,  until  the  sinner  shall  have  been  impelled  to  pour  out 
his  soul  in  penitent  confession,  and  accept  mercy.  And  if  the 
sinner  will  not  do  it,  then  God's  punishment  must  follow  him. 

BELIEF    IN    THE    HOLY    SPIRIT    AND    IN    PRAYER. 

These,  then,  are  our  general  views  concerning  man,  concern- 
ing human  condition,  human  wants,  and  human  relief,  through 
Christ  and  God.  And  therefore  it  follows,  from  our  statements 
thus  fiir,  that  we  believe  in  spiritual  life  ;  because  we  hold  that 
the  sinner,  brought  to  repentance,  renewed  in  the  temper  of  his 
mind,  becomes  a  new  being,  becomes  now  a  child  of  God,  realizes 
within  himself  a  consciousness  to  which  he  was  a  stranger  before, 
the  vital  element  of  which  consciousness  is  spirit ;  and  that  spirit 
comes  partly  from  the  depths  of  his  own  being  which  have  been 
hidden  hitherto,  because  covered  up  by  selfishness  or  unbelief,  and 
partly  comes  from  the  Infinite  Spirit  Himself,  God  sending  down 
His  assistance  to  those  who  need  it.  And  that  is  our  doctrine 
of  the  Holy  Spirit.  We  believe  in  the  Holy  Spirit.  We  not 
only  believe  in  a  holy  spirit  which  every  man  may  have  and 
exercise,  under  the  influence  of  Christ's  teachings  and  character, 
but  we  believe  in  the  Holy  Spirit  as  an  effusion  from  the  high 
heavens,  coming  down  so  gently,  yet  with  such  mighty  power, 
to  enter  into  the  human  soul,  to  refresh  it,  and  encourage  it,  and 
comfort  it,  and  fill  it  with  the  hope  of  heaven.  This  is  our  doc- 
trine of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Not  that  it  is  a  personality  separate 
from  the  Father,  but  that  it  is  His  own  life,  expressing  itself  in 
an  influence  which  comes  forth,  and  comes  forth  intentionally,  to 
those  who  personally  ask  for  it,  or  do  not  ask  for  it. 

We  believe,  therefore,  in  prayer,  as  the   dictate  of  human 


WHAT   UNITARIANS  BELIEVE.  533 

nature :  not  only  as  the  cry  of  the  human  heart  when  it  cries, 
as  did  the  Psalmist,  "  for  the  living  God,"  but  as  the  aspiration 
of  the  soul,  when,  tauglit  and  encouraged  by  Christ,  it  lifts  up 
though  it  be  but  the  faintest  desire  above  the  atmosphere  of 
earth  into  the  skies.  And,  as  it  rises,  it  gets  more  force,  and  be- 
comes a  niighty  appeal  and  enters  into  the  bosom  of  the  Eternal 
Father,  to  move  Him,  shall  I  say?  —  wliy  not  say  it?  —  to  move 
Him  to  send  down  His  spirit  of  truth  and  mercy. 

And,  thus  believing  in  the  spiritual  life,  as  created  by  faith 
and  renewed  by  the  spirit,  you  can  understand,  dear  friends,  — 
to  return  for  a  moment  to  a  point  in  tlie  earlier  part  of  our 
remarks,  —  how  the  value  of  faith  depends  not  so  much  on  its 
quantity  as  on  its  quality.  A  man  may  believe  a  great  many 
things,  and  yet  hold  them  with  such  faith  that  they  shall  be  of 
very  little  value  or  service  to  him  ;  he  may  believe  a  very  few 
things  with  such  an  earnest  and  appropriating  faith,  make  them 
elements  of  character,  make  them  virtual  inspirations,  make 
them  a  law  also  unto  himself,  that  they  transform  him  into  an 
angel  upon  earth.  It  is  not  quantity,  but  quality.  A  few  grains 
of  gold  are  worth  more  than  many  pounds  of  iron. 

BELIEF    IN    RIGHTEOUSNESS    AND    LOVE. 

And,  once  more,  it  follows  from  all  this,  and  follows  particu- 
larly from  our  last  statement,  that  we  believe  in  the  sfiirit  and 
life  as  affecting  and  pervading  the  soul,  determining  its  exercise, 
guiding  the  will,  making  the  inner  man  to  be  after  the  image  of 
God,  as  it  was  originally  formed,  and  is  now  restored  by  Christ. 
We  believe  also  in  outward  righteousness,  in  personal  character, 
exhibitinjj  and  vindicatino;  itself  in  the  various  relations  of  social 
existence.  We  believe  that  this  spiritual  life,  if  it  be  genuine, 
will  not  and  cannot  shut  itself  up  in  the  recesses  of  one's  own 
thought  and  feeling.  AVe  believe  it  must  go  forth  to  do  good ; 
that,  without  making  any  display  of  itself,  without  coveting 
admiration  or  praise,  it  will  involuntarily,  spontaneously,  con- 
tinually, offer  itself  for  imitation,  to  incite  others  to  good  deeds, 
and  to  the  relief  of  those  who  are  in  the  way   of  transgression, 


534  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

or  folly,  or  suffering,  whatever  it  may  be.  And  thus  the  Chris- 
tian will  be,  and  must  be,  a  philanthropist ;  and  any  Christian 
who  is  not  a  practical  and  active  philanthropist  is  but  half  a 
Christian  :  he  is  not  a  follower  of  Jesus  who  "  went  about  doing 
good; "  not  a  Christian  after  the  pattern  of  the  Apostle,  who  said 
that  we  mu'.t  "do  good  to  all  as  we  have  opportunity,  especially," 
indeed,  "  to  those  who  are  of  the  household  of  fiiith,"  and  there- 
fore nearest  to  us,  most  within  our  reach,  but  also  to  all  who  are 
not  Christian,  who  are  not  good  men,  according  to  the  standard 
set  forth  in  that  glorious  parable  of  the  good  Samaritan. 

And  so,  friends,  not  only  doing  good  in  the  world,  but  trying 
to  be  good,  —  that  is,  all  pressing  on  toward  perfection,  and  yet 
all  feeling  that  we  are  beset  and  encompassed  by  innumerable 
temptations  and  have  not  yet  reached  the  goal,  —  becomes  the 
test  of  Christian  faith,  becomes  the  expression  of  the  life  of  Christ 
in  God  that  belongs  to  us. 

"  LIFE    AND    LOVE,"    THE    UNITARIAN    MOTTO. 

And  therefore,  finally,  there  are  two  words  which  we  love, 
which  we  repeat,  and  which  become  each  a  motto  that  we  would 
never  forget  nor  disobey,  —  Life  and  Love.  Both  of  these  are 
principles  of  Christianity.  No  man  has  really  Life  in  him  until 
in  his  own  consciousness  he  has,  to  some  extent,  interpreted  the 
words  of  Jesus :  "  I  am  come  that  they  might  have  life,  and  that 
they  might  have  it  more  abundantly."  No  man  lias  realized  the 
fulness  of  his  own  existence  until  he  has  opened  his  soul  to  the 
Divine  instruction  which  comes  through  the  Gospel,  and  has 
made  himself  ftimiliar  with  the  highest  and  best  in  his  nature, 
which  he  can  reach  only  when  he  is  really  a  living  man,  in  the 
best  sense  of  that  noble  word  "  man,"  until  he  has  made  his  man- 
hood to  be  rich  with  the  spirit  of  Christ,  until  he  has  brought  it 
to  express  itself  in  all  its  proportions  and  in  all  its  relations. 
And  no  one  is  a  thorough  Christian,  no  one  has  a  right  to 
regard  himself,  no  matter  what  others  may  say  of  him,  as  a 
thorough  believer,  until  he  has  learned  by  tender  sympathies, 
by  gentle  moods  of  feeling,  by  a  broad  charity,  and  by  an  active 


THE  MINISTER   AND  HIS  BUSINESS.         535 

benevolence,  what  that  mighty  word  Loyk  imports,  that  word,  — 
I  had  almost  said,  the  largest  and  most  suggestive  of  all  words, 
but  I  am  reminded  tiiat  I  have  spoken  one  still  larger,  —  yet  that 
word  Love,  which  we  carry  up  to  the  throne  of  God,  and  there, 
when  we  would  best  acquaint  ourselves  with  the  unseen,  the 
everlasting,  the  ever-glorious,  we  say,  He  is  Love.  We,  then, 
taking  the  word  to  ourselves,  pressing  it  into  our  hearts,  makino- 
it,  as  it  were,  the  impulse  that  governs  us  and  yet  withal  re- 
strains us,  can  claim  to  be  di^ci[)les  of  Christ. 

So,  then,  friends,  I  have  run  over,  I  hope,  sufficiently,  perhaps 
at  too  much  length,  the  points  of  our  faith  which  seem  to  belong 
together,  and  to  follow  one  after  another,  by  an  almost,  if  not 
absolutely,  necessary  sequence.  It  is  said  that  Calvinism  is  the 
most  logical  form  of  doctrine  ever  devised ;  for,  if  you  assume 
its  premises,  you  can  but  go  on,  step  by  step,  to  its  conclusions. 
There  is  some  truth  in  this  remark.  Happil}^,  its  premises  are 
fixlse.  But  I  conceive  that  we  have  a  faith  which  is  not  frag:- 
mentary  and  disjointed,  but  the  parts  of  which  fit  into  each 
other  with  admirable  symmetry ;  nay,  more,  that  the  different 
articles  of  belief  follow  upon  one  another  by  an  almost  inevi- 
table law  of  deduction.  And  thus  we  are  brought,  from  our 
faith  in  God,  with  which  we  began,  to  communion  with  God, 
with  which  we  end.  Believing  in  Him,  whom  the  creation 
compels  us  to  honor  as  its  Author,  we  at  last  arrive  at  Him  who 
is  Perfect  Love.  Are  we  Infidels,  then  ?  Should  that  name 
ever  be  flung  against  us  ?  Are  we  not  Believers,  emphatically  ? 
Are  we  not,  also,  as  a  body  of  believers,  agreed  upon  these  gi-eat 
points  of  doctrine  ?  And,  though  we  be  a  small  denomination, 
have  we  not  a  faith  in  which  we  may  rejoice  and  be  glad  ? 


THE   MINISTER  AND   HIS   BUSINESS. 

1839. 

The  pulpit  is  the  spot  on  which  conviction  must  plant  itself, 
and  speak  in  the  tones  of  a  calmness  too  deep  to  be  passionate^ 
too  earnest  to  be  mechanical,  of  themes  which  beginning  with 


536  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

the  soul  of  man  spread  tliemselves  out  tlirough  the  infinite  rela- 
tions of  God  and  eternity.  On  such  themes  a  man  should  speak, 
if  he  open  his  mouth  upon  them,  with  reverence  and  with  solici- 
tude, but  also  from  acquaintance,  —  an  acquaintaTice  so  intimate 
that  it  has  become  a  part  of  his  habitual  consciousness.  My  first 
advice  to  the  young  minister  would  be,  Preach  what  you  believe, 
and  nothing  else.  Go  just  as  far  in  your  sermon  as  you  have  gone 
in  your  faith ;  where  the  one  stops  let  the  other  stop.  Better  reit- 
erate one  idea  fifty  times,  if  each  time  it  come  from  your  inmost 
conviction,  than  utter  fifty  ideas  which  have  only  taken  up  their 
summer  residence  in  your  mind. 

All  ministers  were  not  made  for  the  same  kind  of  work. 
Each  holds  the  ministry  according  as  he  has  received  mercy. 
One  loves  study,  another  action ;  one  is  of  a  logical  turn  of  mind, 
another  feels  the  truth  which  he  cannot  reason  out ;  one  will 
touch  and  subdue  his  hearers  on  Sunday,  another's  powers  of 
persuasion  must  be  exercised  in  private ;  one  does  best  when  he 
writes,  another  will  effect  more  in  one  extemporaneous  address 
than  in  twenty  written  discourses.  Now  what  can  be  more 
absurd  than  to  place  all  these  different  capacities  of  usefulness 
upon  one  Procrustes'  bed,  and  stretch  and  lop  till  they  are  all 
brought  to  what  is  considered  the  standard  of  ministerial  service ! 
In  following  his  own  tastes,  the  individual  must  doubtless  be 
careful  that  he  do  not  destroy  the  symmetry''  of  his  own  charac- 
ter by  allowing  too  mucli  indulgence  to  a  particular  inclination, 
as  well  as  considerate  of  the  usages  which  time  has  hallowed, 
and  around  which,  if  their  general  adoption  be  not  an  argument 
in  their  favor,  of  more  or  less  weight  as  the  case  may  be,  the 
reverence  and  attachment  of  the  community  may  have  closely 
entwined   themselves. 

I  have  known  so  much  needless  suffering  to  be  endured  by 
ministers,  and  so  much  unjust  comparison  to  be  instituted  by  the 
people,  that  I  am  the  more  anxious  to  expose  the  error  of  imag- 
ining that  there  is  only  one  road  of  professional  success  ;  that 
what  one  person  does  well  another  can  and  ought  to  do  equally 


THE  MINISTER  AND  HIS  BUSINESS,         537 

well.  Hence  the  impatience  of  a  congregation  when  they  hear 
a  better  preacher  than  their  own,  forgetful  of  the  influence  which 
he  exerts  in  private ;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  wiien  they  learn  that 
another  pastor  visits  more  than  theirs,  unmindful  of  the  greater 
attention  which  the  latter  bestows  upon  his  sermons.  Hence, 
too,  the  unnatural  and  unprofitable  struggle  of  the  clergyman  to 
imitate  first  this  and  then  that  clerical  brother,  whose  success 
seems  to  be  a  rebuke  of  his  own  indolence.  We  cannot  all  be 
alike.  Our  success  must  lie  in  different  lines  of  usefulness.  It 
is  through  variety  of  endowments,  and  therefore  of  exercises, 
that  the  Church  must  be  benefited.  "  As  every  man  hath 
received  the  gift,"  says  the  apostle,  "  even  so  minister  the  same 
one  to  another,  as  good  stewards  of  the  manifold  "  —  mark  the 
word  !  —  "  the  manifold  grace  of  God." 

1840. 

Enter  not  the  pulpit  with  any  other  than  the  highest  purposes. 
Prepare  your  mind  for  the  services  of  the  hour  by  prayer  and 
meditation.  Come  not  hither  to  give  entertainment,  to  win 
applause,  or  to  discharge  a  professional  task.  That  you  may 
clear  your  conscience  in  this  matter,  let  me  direct  you  to  the  end 
which  you  must  keep  in  view,  and  the  means  which  you  must 
use  for  this  end.  The  end  which  you  must  contemplate  in  all 
your  ministrations  here,  is  the  culture  of  the  human  soul.  To 
the  soul  must  you  address  yourself,  —  to  the  spiritual  and 
immortal  nature  of  man.  Preach  to  the  souls  of  your  hearers, 
preach  with  the  single  view  of  making  them  partakers  of  a 
Divine  life.  In  every  one  of  the  congregation,  under  whatever 
outward  appearance,  behold  the  elements  of  a  peifoction  which 
you  must  help  him  to  understand  and  unfold,  and  do  not  account 
yourself  to  have  done  any  thing  as  you  ought,  unless  you  have 
at  least  tried  to  make  him  a  better  man.  Come  hither  Sunday 
after  Sunday  with  just  the  same  purpose,  —  to  aid  these  people 
in  freeing,  exalting,  sanctifying,  perfecting  themselves.  Fear 
not  that  by  incessant  contemplation  you  will  exhaust  the  vitality 
of  this  purpose.     The  more  you  ponder  the  great  idea  which 


538  EZEA   STILES   GANNETT. 

must  ever  be  uppermost  in  your  mind,  the  more  sublime,  com- 
prehensive, inexhaustible  will  it  seem  to  you.  Penetrate  the 
meaning  of  the  common  words  of  religious  instruction,  —  least 
understood  because  most  used,  —  7na?2,  duty,  God.  The  soul,  I 
repeat,  —  comprehend  its  nature,  condition,  destiny ;  capable  of  an 
exaltation  which  mocks  the  power  of  language ;  sunk  often  into 
a  state  of  the  most  pitiable  debasement,  and  still  more  often 
wrapped  in  a  lethargy  whose  fatal  slumber  you  must  dissolve ; 
with  an  endless  progress  before  it,  whose  character  the  influ- 
ences it  shall  here  acknowledge  must  affect,  and  may  for  ever 
determine.  To  save  this  soul  from  ruin,  to  redeem  it  from  thral- 
dom, to  bring  it  to  God,  to  prepare  it  for  heaven,  is  your  work ; 
and  if  you  set  before  yourself  any  other  design  than  this,  I  say 
to  you,  my  brother,  you  are  not  fit  for  the  ministry.  Go  else- 
where and  get  your  bread.  Go  elsewhere,  and  work  for  money, 
for  honor,  for  fame.  But  take  not  another  step  beyond  the 
threshold  of  the  sacred  office. 

The  instrument  which  you  must  use  in  affecting  the  souls  of 
men  is  Christian  truth.  You  are  ordained  to  be  a  Christian 
minister.  Preach,  therefore,  Christianity.  Preach  not  philoso- 
phy, preach  not  the  maxims  of  a  conventional  morality,  preach 
not  human  folly  or  human  wisdom ;  preach  Christianity,  preach 
Christ,  —  Christ,  the  Son  of  God  and  the  Saviour  of  men,  — 
Christ  crucified,  yet  risen,  —  Christ  the  sufferer,  but  the  Master, 
—  Christ  the  image  of  God  and  the  model  for  man.  Make  the 
New  Testament  your  text-book;  not  as  do  some,  merely  for  the 
sake  of  getting  a  text,  but  that  you  may  draw  thence  your  doc- 
trine and  persuasion.  Make  Jesus  your  study  and  the  source 
of  your  inspiration.  Come  to  this  people  with  his  religion  on 
your  tongue  and  in  your  heart. 

Preach  plainly,  with  the  aim  of  being  understood,  and  not  as 
if  this  were  the  last  thing  you  cared  about.  Utter  the  truth,  be 
it  popular  or  unpopular,  let  it  strike  where  it  may,  wound  though 
it  shall.     Be  honest.     Preach  nothing  which  you  do  not  believe. 


THE  MINISTER  AND  HIS  BUSINESS.         539 

Give  forth  your  own  convictions.  Be  as  little  of  the  parrot  as 
of  the  hypocrite.  Say  what  you  think.  Preach  the  Christianity 
which  you  find  in  the  Bible,  —  not  what  some  one  else,  or  all 
others,  have  said  is  there.  The  very  first  requisite  in  a  minister 
is  integrity  of  soul.  Let  your  sermons,  and  oh,  for  conscience' 
and  for  the  altar's  sake,  let  your  prayers,  be  the  expression  of 
your  own  mind.  Borrow  nothing  from  another  for  the  sake  of 
filling  up  or  filling  out.  Make  all  that  you  repeat  your  own  by 
the  concurrence  and  sympathy  of  your  own  mind,  before  you  let 
it  pass  your  lips.  If  it  were  possible,  I  would  say,  let  your  dis- 
course be  as  close  a  copy  of  your  convictions  as  if  the  liijht  of 
truth,  like  the  action  of  the  sun  on  the  material  surface,  could 
transfer  thither  each  line  and  point.  Dread  every  form  and 
degree  of  dishonesty. 

1842. 

The  end  of  preaching  is  not  to  communicate  new  views  of 
truth,  but  to  awaken  attention  to  old  views;  not  to  feed  the  mind, 
but  to  quicken  it ;  not  to  educate  the  intellect,  so  much  as  to  di- 
rect the  conscience  and  soften  and  elevate  the  heart.  The  end 
of  preaching  is  effect.  Some  persons  are  afraid  of  this  word  in 
this  connection.  Preaching  for  effect,  they  conceive,  must  proceed 
from  an  equivocal  motive  and  tend  to  a  doubtful  result.  Still  I 
repeat,  that  preaching  should  aim  at  effect,  and  that  the  best 
preaching  is  effectual  preaching.  If  a  man  rises  in  a  pulpit  and 
reads  or  recites  a  beautiful  piece  of  composition,  which  sends 
away  the  hearers  with  their  tongues  loud  in  praise  of  his  scholar- 
ship or  his  eloquence,  but  with  their  hearts  bare  of  all  impres- 
sion, I  do  not  call  that  preaching.  It  may  be  beautiful,  it  may 
be  eloquent,  it  may  be  very  good  in  its  proper  place,  but  it  is 
not  preaching.  lie  preaches  who  makes  people  feel  and  act, 
who  leads  them  to  examine  themselves  and  to  live  as  Christian 
men  should  live.  Whitefield  preached,  when  he  drew  all  Dri 
Franklin's  money  out  of  his  pocket,  and  when  he  made  a  vast 
congregation  tremble  and  weep ;  and  yet  I  suppose  that,  if  a 
critic  should  review  a  volume  of  Whitefield's  sermons,  he  would 


540  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

pronounce  it  a  poor  book.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  tears  or 
raptures  are  evidence  of  good  preaching,  or  that  the  pulpit 
should  aim  at  producing  excitement ;  but  I  maintain  that  moral 
impression  and  spiritual  life  are  the  results  at  which  it  should 
look,  and  with  which  alone  it  should  be  satisfied. 

And  now  I  ask,  how  can  there  be  such  preaching,  except  it 
come  from  the  soul  ?  How  can  a  minister  affect  others,  and  so 
produce  the  (ffect  he  should  desire,  if  he  be  not  in  earnest,  and 
most  heartily  in  earnest  ?  What  is  the  secret  of  his  power  over 
an  audience  ?  What  is  the  channel  through  which  his  soul  flows 
into  their  souls?  Sympathy,  —  sympathy  established  between 
them  and  him  by  his  utterance.  But  now  mark :  the  state  of 
mind  to  be  awakened  in  them  is  a  religious  state,  —  a  state  of 
strong  interest  in  religion.  If  their  minds  be  in  such  a  state, 
there  can  be  sympathy  between  them  and  him  only  when  his 
mind  is  in  a  similar  state ;  that  is,  a  state  of  strong  religious 
interest,  a  state  of  spiritual  activity  and  fervor. 

I  hold  it  therefore  to  be  absolutely  indispensable  to  good 
preaching  that  the  minister  write  and  deliver  his  sermon  from 
a  soul  burning  with  religious  conviction;  that  he  write  and 
deliver  it  almost  as  if  he  could  not  help  writing  and  delivering 
it,  as  if  he  realized  the  force  of  the  Apostle's  declaration,  —  "A 
necessity  is  laid  upon  me;  yea,  woe  is  unto  me,  if  I  preach 
not  the  gospel."  Call  this  love  of  souls  zeal,  fanaticism,  by 
whatever  good  or  bad  name  you  please :  it  matters  not  how  it 
is  called  or  how  described,  if  it  only  be  found  in  the  preacher. 
But  among  us  the  minister  is  not  required  to  preach  once  or 
twice  a  year,  when  a  special  interest  warms  his  bosom,  but  Sun- 
day after  Sunday,  year  after  year,  till  he  stops  because  he  can 
preach  no  longer.  Here  is  our  young  friend,  going  to  stand  up 
in  this  pulpit  on  the  next  Lord's  day  to  preach  the  everlasting 
gospel  to  this  people,  and  from  that  day  to  his  death  there  may 
■  never  a  week  pass  in  which  he  will  not  be  called  to  the  same 
service,  except  as  regard  to  his  physical  frame  shall  provide  for 
bim  occasional  rest.  How  can  he  come  every  week  into  this 
place  with  a  sermon,  —  not  a  written  something,  but  a  sermoji,  — 


THE  MINISTER   AND  HIS  BUSINESS.         541 

and  preach  —  not  speak  to  inattentive  hearers,  but  preach  —  to 
his  fellow-men,  on  whose  spirits  the  cloud  and  the  burden  of  sin 
have  fallen  as  he  has  felt  them  fall  on  his  own  spirit,  and  who 
like  himself  are  heirs  of  immortality,  —  how  shall  he  preach  to 
them  every  Sunday,  unless  his  whole  soul  be  in  his  ministry  ? 
It  cannot  be,  it  cannot  be.  He  may. gain  admiration,  he  may 
be  loaded  with  praise,  he  may  be  idolized,  —  and  show  only  that 
he  has  great  talents  or  fine  personal  gifts ;  but  he  cannot  come 
to  this  people,  in  his  weekly  ministrations,  "  in  the  fulness  of  the 
blessing  of  the  gospel  of  Christ,"  unless  he  has  caught  that  spirit 
of  devotedness  which  carried  Christ  to  crucifixion,  that  he  miirht 
"draw  all  men  unto  himself,"  and  which  prompted  Paul  to 
"  become  all  things  to  all  men,  that  he  might  by  all  means  save 
some." 

The  minister's  life  is  not  a  life  free  from  trial.  Rather  is  it 
a  life  of  peculiar  trial.  If  any  one  enter  it  in  the  hope  of  find- 
ing a  couch  of  ease  and  a  path  of  roses,  he  will  be  bitterly  dis- 
appointed. I  have  read  of  clerical  sinecures  and  of  "  luxurious 
parsons,"  but  I  thank  God  this  is  not  the  country  for  such  men 
or  such  things.  Here,  if  no  one  else  works,  the  minister  must ; 
and  work,  often,  till  both  body  and  mind  cry  out  for  repose. 
This,  however,  can  hardly  be  called  a  trial.  It  is  not  the  work, 
but  the  feeling  that  he  works  to  little  purpose,  which  tries  his 
spirit.  Week  after  week  —  and  happy  will  he  be  if  it  should 
not  be  year  after  year  —  he  must  labor  in  the  pulpit  and  out  of 
the  pulpit,  by  day  and  by  night,  in  his  study  and  among  his 
people,  and  see  little  fruit  of  his  labor.  I  conceive  that  there  is 
DO  other  employment  in  which  men  engage  that  yields  so  little 
visible  result  as  the  ministry  of  our  established  churches.  In 
the  early  days  of  a  congregation,  or  at  certain  periods  in  its 
subsequent  history,  the  minister  may  have  undeniable,  or  even 
abundant  evidence,  that  his  exertions  are  blessed  in  the  improve- 
ment of  his  people.  But  in  the  general  course  of  his  services 
he  will  have  more  occasion  to  ado[)t  the  Prophet's  exclamation, 
—  '•  Who  hath  believed  our  report,  and  to  whom  is  the  arm  of 


542  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

the  Lord  revealed  ?  "  Discouragement  will  track  his  steps  and 
weigh  down  his  heart.  His  efforts  will  seem  to  be  without 
reward,  his  prayers  without  answer.  If  some  seed  fall  on  good 
ground,  much  the  greater  part  will  be  devoured  by  the  fowls  of 
the  air,  be  choked  by  thorns,  or  be  scattered  on  a  stony  soil 
where  it  will  not  take  root.  Complaiut,  too,  will  arise  where  he 
had  hoped  to  find  support.  He  may  be  misunderstood  and  mis- 
represented, the  sympathy  that  was  expressed  at  the  commence- 
ment of  his  course  grow  cold,  new  voices  and  new  ways  be 
preferred  to  his  familiar  voice  and  trite  methods  of  discourse  or 
actioi;!,  and  he  whose  usefulness  was  prophesied  in  terms  which 
no  probable  result  could  have  satisfied  be  condemned  for  loss 
of  interest  or  want  of  force. 

Besides  exposure  to  the  caprice  of  opinion  and  the  difficulties 
that  grow  out  of  the  inaptitude  of  people  to  receive  religious 
impression,  from  which  it  is  possible  that  the  minister  may  be 
saved,  there  is  one  cause  of  distress  which  he  cannot  but  feel, 
and  must  feel  the  more  keenly  the  nearer  his  appreciation  of 
the  responsibilities  of  his  office  approaches  the  truth.  lie  feels 
how  inadequate  are  his  powers  to  the  task  he  has  undertaken. 
That  task  in  its  length  and  breadth,  its  height  and  depth,  stands 
before  him,  and  fills  the  whole  scene  of  his  earthly  existence, 
like  a  gigantic  mountain  occupying  the  whole  field  of  vision  be- 
fore a  traveller,  and  seeming  to  mock  his  purpose  of  advancing 
on  his  journey.  The  sense  of  inadequacy  —  the  most  painful 
conviction  that  can  enter  the  mind  —  comes  upon  him,  and  well 
will  it  be  with  him  if  it  do  not  take  him  captive  and  lead  him 
to  the  brink  of  despair.  It  is  the  work  of  the  Lord  which  he 
has  chosen :  who  among  the  sons  of  men  is  equal  to  the  per- 
formance of  this  work  ?  The  conversion  of  tl/e  sinful ;  the  in- 
struction of  the  well-disposed,  many  of  them  older,  all  perhaps 
better,  than  himself;  the  maintenance  of  the  Christian  cause 
against  error,  vice,  and  irreligion  ;  the  prosecution  of  that  enter- 
prise whose  corner-stone  was  laid  in  the  tomb  of  Jesus ;  the 
spread  of  that  religion  whose  entrance  into  the  world  was  cele- 
brated by  angels  in  the  songs  of  heaven,  —  these  are  the  things  to 


THE  MINISTER  AND  HIS  BUSINESS.         543 

be  done,  and  who  is  sufficient  for  these  things  ?  May  not,  must 
not,  the  Christian  minister  tremble,  when  the  conception  of  all 
that  needs  to  be  done,  and  all  that  ought  to  be  done  by  one  who 
would  "  follow  Christ  in  the  regeneration,"  comes  to  his  mind 
as  the  measure  of  his  own  duty? 

Under  the  pressure  of  these  various  grounds  of  anxiety, 
troubled  and  disheartened,  the  minister  must  be  sustained  by  a 
resolute  devotion  to  his  work,  or  it  will  be  too  much  for  his 
strength.     Unless  he 

"  Hath  given 
Himself,  his  powers,  his  hopes,  his  life, 
To  the  great  cause  of  truth  and  Heaven," 

he  will  faint  and  grow  weary.  He  must  have  married  his  heart 
to  it  with  the  solemn  words,  "  What  God  hath  joined  together  let 
not  man  put  asunder ; "  and  then,  loving  it  as  the  chosen  of  his 
heart,  he  will  not  suffer  any  thing  to  disturb  his  satisfaction  in 
the  choice  which  he  has  made.  This  love  of  the  ministry,  this 
adherence  to  it  for  its  own  sake,  will  enable  a  man  to  bear  and 
to  do  what  without  such  a  principle  of  attachment  would  drive 
him  from  it,  or  make  him  go  through  its  wearisome  offices  like 
a  prisoner  through  his  appointed  tasks.  We  have  all  seen  what 
love  will  do,  —  how  it  will  nerve  the  delicate  frame  of  woman 
as  with  iron  firmness,  and  give  strength  before  which  obstacles 
that  appear  insuperable  vanish  like  mists  before  a  miglity  wind. 
It  has  converted  the  sick-chamber  into  a  paradise,  and  filled  the 
dungeon  with  joy.  It  has  made  toils  that  wore  out  the  body 
seem  light  as  dreams,  and  led  men  to  brave  dangers  as  they 
would  take  a  pleasant  walk.  So  will  it  pour  fortitude  and 
energy  into  the  heart  of  the  Christian  minister  amidst  all  his 
trials.  Let  him  only  love  his  profession,  and  neither  the  expe- 
rience of  disappointment  nor  the  contemplation  of  duty  will 
check  "  the  current  of  his  strong  resolve."  It  was  this  which 
enabled  Paul  to  say,  "I  will  very  gladly  spend  and  be  spent  for 
you  ;  though  the  more  abundantly  I  love  you,  the  less  I  be 
loved."  And  it  is  this  which,  in  the  bosom  of  the  humblest  fol- 
lower of  the  Ai)Ostle  now,  will  support  him  under  all  difficulties, 
—  nay,  will  carry  him  triumphantly  aver  them  all. 


644  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

For  so  laboring,  in  faithful  love,  he  will  be  successful.  Here, 
then,  I  am  brought  to  my  last  argument  in  favor  of  the  devoted- 
ness  which  is  my  theme,  —  that  it  will  secure  the  ends  of  the 
ministry.  Wlio  have  been  successful  in  this  department  of 
labor  ?  Devoted  men.  Who  have  been  powerful  preachers  ? 
Devoted  men.  Who  have  been  useful  pastors  ?  Devoted  men. 
Who  have  infused  their  own  spirit  into  the  generation  about 
them,  and  imprinted  their  own  image  upon  the  generation  after 
them  ?  Devoted  men.  In  all  ages  and  in  all  lands  a  devoted 
ministry  has  been  a  successful  ministry.  From  that  wedlock 
of  which  I  have  spoken,  between  the  heart  and  the  aim  of  the 
life,  have  been  born  efficiency  and  success.  He  who  by  assidu- 
ous culture  brings  one  vine  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord  to  bear 
fruit,  illustrates  the  value  of  such  culture,  as  well  as  he  who 
from  a  more  fertile  spot  gathers  more  or  heavier  clusters.  From 
every  walk  of  ministerial  service  arise  the  witnesses  to  the  effi- 
cacy of  laborious  zeal.  Hail !  ye  champions  of  duty,  ye  teachers 
of  a  holy  truth !  We  welcome  you  with  the  message  you  bear 
to  our  hearts, —  never  to  despond,  and  never  to  be  idle.  From 
you  we  learn  the  conditions  of  success,  and  the  rewards  of 
fidelity ;  for  on  your  lives  was  stamped  the  character  of  devoted- 
ness,  and  the  scenes  of  your  industry  bore  evidence  of  useful- 
ness. 

The  question  may  be  asked,  whether  we  mean  to  teach  that 
all  ministers  should  exhibit  similar  absorption  in  their  profes- 
sional duties.  I  will  not  presume  to  speak  in  condemnation  of 
those  (if  any  there  be)  who  do  not;  but  I  certainly  mean  to 
indicate  this  as  the  standard  of  ministerial  fidelity.  I  know  not 
at  what  lower  point  to  place  it.  Our  doctrine  simply  is,  that  a 
minister  who  would  do  his  duty  must  devote  all  his  faculties 
and  resources  to  his  ministry.  "  What ! "  you  may  say,  "  his 
whole  time  and  strength  ? "  Yes,  I  answer ;  with  that  due 
qualification  of  such  1  inguage  which  common  sense  will  supply. 
I  do  not  mean  that  he  must  go  without  sleep,  or  that  he  may 
neglect  his  fixmily,  or  that  he  need  relinquish  all  intercourse  with 
society  except  that  which  springs  out  of  his  pastoral  relation,  or 


THE  MINISTER  AND  HIS  BUSINESS.         545 

that  he  may  not  inform  himself  of  the  literature  of  his  times ; 
but  that  his  office  must  ever  be  uppermost  in  liis  thoughts  and 
deepest  in  his  heart,  —  that  he  must  not  entangle  himself  with 
cares  that  shall  hinder  him  in  the  discharge  of  its  functions,  nor 
covet  pleasures,  social  or  mental,  that  would  divert  his  interest 
from  the  great  purpose  of  his  life.  I  confess  I  do  not  under- 
stand how  one  who  "  takes  heed  to  his  m  hi  is  try  to  fulfil  it "  can 
attend  to  any  thing  else,  except  as  an  incidental  and  sub^idiary 
part  of  his  life.  How  one  can  satisfy  his  conscience  in  uniting 
political  service  with  the  pastoral  office,  or  in  dividing  his  time 
between  the  duties  of  the  pulpit  and  the  studies  of  classical  anti- 
quity, as  if  the  latter  were,  to  say  the  least,  as  dear  to  his  heart 
as  the  former,  is  a  problem  that  I  am  unable  to  solve.  Such 
combinations  remind  me  of  the  image  described  by  Daniel, 
wliich  had  "  feet  part  of  iron  and  part  of  clay,"  —  good  there- 
fore neither  for  speed  nor  for  strength.  It  has  often  been  said, 
with  an  appearance  of  pride  and  delight,  that  the  scholars  of 
both  Old  and  New  England  have  been  found  among  her  clergy. 
But  this  seems  to  me  equivocal  praise :  the  clergyman  has  too 
much  to  do  in  his  peculiar  vocation  to  permit  him  to  be  earning 
the  laurels  of  scholarship.  If  he  crave  literary  distinction,  I  fear 
that  he  undervalues  ministerial  service. 

"But  may  not  the  minister  seek  relaxation,  nor  cultivate  the 
pleasures  of  taste  and  fancy  ?  May  he  not  enjoy  the  refresh- 
ment of  society,  nor  bestow  any  attention  upon  the  occurrences 
of  the  world  about  him  ?  "  Certainly,  I  repeat,  I  would  advance 
no  such  extravagant  doctrine.  Let  him  keep  up  an  acquaintance 
with  mankind,  with  books,  with  life  in  its  changing  aspects. 
But  let  him  make  every  thing  auxiliary  to  the  one  great  pur- 
pose of  his  own  life.  Let  him  find  texts  in  men,  and  sermons 
in  the  world.  When  he  is  not  preaching,  let  him  gather  up 
materials  which  he  may  use  in  the  pulpit ;  when  he  is  not  con- 
versing on  the  soul's  wants  and  destinies,  let  him  be  increasing 
his  ability  to  discourse  on  these  themes.  Often  must  he  say  to 
the  fascinations  of  leisure  and  pleasure,  "  I  am  doing  a  great 
work,  so  that  I  cannot  come  down :  why  should  the  work  cease, 

35 


546  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT. 

whilst  I  leave  it  and  come  down  to  you  ? "  And  when  he 
seems  to  be  most  free  from  his  professional  occupations,  he  must 
be  preparing  iiimself  for  renewed  diligence.  The  ministry  must 
be  to  him  the  storehouse  into  which  he  brins^s  all  the  thou'ihts, 
facts,  experience,  that  he  collects  abroad,  and  to  the  supply  of 
which  he  makes  home,  friends,  books,  society,  nature,  provi- 
dence, —  all  he  sees,  all  he  hears,  all  he  does,  —  tributary. 

1850. 

I  know  how  much  may  be  said  about  extravagance  and  enthu- 
siasm. God  help  us !  I  wish  we  had  some  enthusiasm !  It 
would  do  us  good.  We  have  been  so  afraid  of  it  that  we  are 
like  invalids  shut  up  in  their  close  apartments,  till  a  breath  of 
fresh  air  fills  them  with  nervous  apprehension.  Conventional 
propriety  and  classic  purity  are  very  well  in  their  place,  and  the 
Apostle  tells  us  to  let  our  moderation  be  known  unto  all  men, — 
a  very  easy  maxim,  by  the  way,  to  observe,  according  to  the 
sense  which  many  persons  put  upon  it;  but  I  remember  that  he, 
too,  wrote  that  it  is  good  to  be  zealously  affected  always  in  a 
good  thing,  and  I  doubt  if  our  times  need  account  that  a  stale 
truth.  The  example  of  men  on  every  side  address  a  lesson  to 
us  to  which  we  should  do  well  to  take  heed.  Look  at  the  habits 
of  farmer,  of  merchant,  of  lawyer,  physician,  man  of  science, 
artist,  politician.  Look  at  the  mountebank,  who  will  undergo 
harder  training  and  suffer  more  privation  to  excel  in  his  art  than 
men  are  willing  to  endure  for  conscience'  sake  and  for  Christ. 
Look  where  you  will,  and  let  society  in  all  its  departments  of 
action  teach  us  what  choice  and  devotedness  are.  The  martyr- 
doms of  our  age  are  all  on  the  side  of  the  world.  And  they  put 
him  to  shame  who  holds  the  ministry  to  be  a  place  for  self-indul- 
gence, or  for  any  thing  but  strenuous  endeavor  and  whole-hearted 
service. 

I  know,  again,  it  is  said  the  minister  needs  intervals  of  rest, 
and  that  numberless  examples  attest  the  bad  effects  of  an  inces- 
sant devotion  to  professional  labor.  I  answer  that  few  ministers 
—  very  few,  very  few  indeed  —  have  been  injured  by  too  hard 


THE  MINISTER  AND  HIS  BUSINESS.         547 

work.  It  was  not  their  industry,  but  their  irregularity,  which 
disabled  almost  every  one  of  those  who  have  been  driven  to  a 
premature  relinquishment  of  their  tasks.  If  you  could  call  from 
the  grave  the  thousands  of  the  clergy  who  have  gone  down  tliither 
with  broken  constitutions,  you  would  find  them  ready  to  confess 
that  through  a  disregard  of  the  laws  of  health  in  the  way  in 
which  they  did  their  work,  and  not  through  the  amount  of  work, 
they  brought  their  usefulness  to  an  end;  which,  with  harder 
work  differently  arranged,  might  have  been  postponed  for  years. 
There  are  no  pages  of  biography  more  mournful  than  those 
which  record  the  violation  of  physical  laws  by  Christian  minis- 
ters. Charge  not  their  wilful  mistakes  upon  too  exclusive  an 
aim. 

The  discourse  may  be  written  or  unwritten,  but  it  must  have 
been  prepared.  A  purely  extemporaneous  service  is  what,  if 
possible,  should  never  dishonor  the  pulpit.  It  is  a  mistake,  I 
conceive,  to  prescribe  a  particular  method  or  time  of  writing  ser- 
mons. Each  mind  has  its  own  habits  of  composition,  and  to  put 
it  into  those  of  another  mind  may  be  like  making  David  ex- 
change his  sling  for  armor,  which  encumbers  him  at  every  step. 
I  doubt  much,  for  instance,  the  wisdom  of  that  common  piece  of 
advice,  which  I  suppose  every  young  minister  has  heard,  and 
almost  every  one  has  neglected  since  the  days  when  Christian 
preaching  began,  —  not  to  defer  writing  till  the  close  of  the 
week.  With  all  respect  for  those  who,  age  after  age,  have 
repeated  this  counsel  to  so  little  good  purpose,  I  question 
whether  the  proper  form  in  which  it  should  be  given  is  not  this, 
—  Do  not  defer  your  preparation  for  the  pulpit  till  the  lust  day 
of  the  week.  Now  of  this  preparation  the  writing  of  the  dis- 
course is  with  many  the  very  least  part ;  and  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  the  mental  and  moral  excitement  which  a  limite<l  period 
of  time  beirets  is  not  an  aid  in  the  construction  of  sentences 
intended  for  a  popular  audience.  Such  sermons  as  Butler's  or 
Barrows'  or  Jeremy  Taylor's,  laden  with  thought  or  sparkling 
with  beauty,  like  ail  elaborate  composition,  require  more  time 


548  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 

to  fit  them  to  pass  from  the  workshop  of  the  mincl  to  the  place 
of  public  criticism,  but  such  sermoas  would  not  be  the  best  for 
a  congregation  to  hear  every  Sunday;  and  Buckminster,  that 
seraph  of  the  pulpit,  as  one  of  our  own  number  has  so  beauti- 
fully styled  him,  wrote  some  of  his  most  effective  discourses  after 
the  twilight  had  faded  on  Saturday  evening.  What  needs  to  be 
insisted  on,  is  the  early  and  large  preparation  which  the  mind 
should  make  for  the  pulpit,  whether  the  hands  take  up  the  pen 
at  the  commencement  or  the  close  of  the  week.  One  of  the 
most  eminent  preachers  of  New  England,  the  champion  of 
Trinitarian  Congregationalism,  now  as  venerable  in  years  as  he 
has  been  abundant  in  labors,  once  told  me  that  he  wrote  his  ser- 
mons when  walking  through  the  streets  of  Boston.  Never,  O 
preacher,  —  am  I  tempted  to  say,  —  never  let  your  thought  be 
off  from  your  sermon.  Let  the  whole  week  qualify  you  to  give 
instruction  on  the  Lord's  day.  Be  your  own  audience  and  your 
own  preacher  the  week  through. 

1856. 

The  position  in  which  you  stand  towards  your  minister  re- 
quires you  not  only  to  regard  him  with  respect  and  affection,  but 
to  give  expression  to  these  feelings  on  every  suitable  opportunity. 
Let  me  indicate  one  or  two  mistakes  which  you  should  avoid. 
There  are  several  ways  of  treating  a  minister  that  are  admirably 
suited  to  diminish  his  usefulness.  He  may  be  neglected,  like  a 
family  Bible,  which  has  been  bought  because  it  makes  a  respect- 
able appearance  in  a  drawing-room,  and  is  left  to  the  care  of  the 
maid,  whose  office  it  is  to  dust  the  furniture.  Under  this  sort  of 
treatment,  a  minister,  being  a  man,  and  therefore  more  or  less 
affected  by  sympathy,  is  very  apt  to  become  discouraged  ;  and 
le:  me  tell  you,  my  friends,  that,  if  you  wish  to  put  an  end  to  his 
exertions  for  your  good,  you  need  only  poison  his  heart  with 
discouragement.  It  is  as  sure  as  strychnine,  if  it  be  a  little 
slower  in  its  action.  He  may,  again,  be  flattered  and  petted, 
met  every  Monday  morning  with  compliments  on  his  sermons, 
and  pampered  the  week  through  with  attentions,  like  a  distin- 


THE  MINISTER  AND  HIS  BUSINESS.         549 

guished  visitor  or  a  pet  animal.  Being  a  man,  and  therefore 
susceptible  of  injury  from  such  unwholesome  nutriment,  lie  will 
lose  the  humility  and  disinterestedness  which  may  have  been  the 
strength  of  his  character;  and,  if  he  should  sink  into  a  mere 
practitioner  of  routine,  whom  will  the  people  have  to  blame  but 
themselves?  Sometimes  the  minister  is  treated  with  a  punc- 
tilious civility,  the  remnant  of  that  consideration  in  which  the 
clergy  were  held  when  the  children  trembled  and  their  parents 
put  on  propriety,  because  the  minister  was  approaching  the 
house.     Such  civility  neither  expresses  nor  wins  confidence. 

Yet  other  ministers  are  watched  and  scrutinized  and  criticised, 
like  Franklin's  statue  or  the  Mechanics'  Exhibition,  their  de- 
fects exaggerated,  imaginary  faults  imputed,  and  their  claims  to 
estimation  discussed  with  more  than  an  amateur's  ze:d  or  a 
trader's  coolness.  Such  a  practice  excludes  a  just  appreciation 
of  the  ministry,  and  is  a  sign  of  a  deficient  spirituality  among 
the  people.  A  minister  is  neither  a  merchantable  commodity 
nor  a  work  of  art ;  but  a  man  whose  business  it  is  to  preach  the 
Gospel  in  public  and  in  private,  and  whose  desire  it  should  be 
to  make  his  fellow-men  partakers  of  the  grace  of  God  through 
Jesus  Christ.  Let  him  pursue  his  work  according  to  his  ability, 
without  invidious  comparison  or  intrusive  superintendence.  Each 
one  can  do  the  most  good  by  a  diligent  use  of  his  own  gifts. 
The  custom  of  measuring  ministers  with  one  another,  as  horses 
are  compared  together  on  a  race-ground,  is  as  injurious  as  it  is 
contemptible.  Be  just  to  your  minister,  remembering  tliat,  if  he 
be  a  man,  he  cannot  be  faultless,  and,  if  he  be  a  Christian,  he 
cannot  be  useless.  Let  him  do  his  work  in  his  own  way,  and 
begin  to  complain  of  him  only  when  you  find  that  he  is  not 
doing  it.  Give  him  large  liberty.  If  he  is  a  wise  man,  he 
will  not  abuse  it ;  but  if  he  is  a  good  man  he  will  need  it. 

Encourage  your  minister  by  a  prompt  sympathy  in  every 
good  purpose  in  which  he  may  seek  your  co-operation.  Encour- 
age him  by  frank  intercourse  and  a  cordial  welcome  to  your 
homes.  Let  him  understand  this  night  that  lie  has  an  open 
entrance  to  your  hearts,  which  will  never  be  closed  till  he  has 


550  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

betrayed  your  confidence.  Do  not  dishearten  him  by  a  polite 
exterior,  which  says,  in  as  decorous  a  manner  as  behavior  can 
say  it,  "  Sir,  you  are  paid  for  preaching,  —  mind  your  own  busi- 
ness." My  friends,  your  minister  will  neglect  his  business  most 
shamefully,  if  he  do  not  offer  you  his  assistance  in  the  warfare 
which  your  souls  must  carry  on  with  doubt  and  temptation.  He 
does  not  come  here  simply  to  preach.  Oh  that  worst  heresy  of 
Protestantism !  would  that  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  might  cast  it 
out  for  ever!  He  comes  to  guide  your  tottering  steps  to  Christ, 
to  help  your  burdened  souls  on  their  way  to  God  ;  and  how  can 
he  do  it,  if  he  have  no  acquaintance  with  the  history  of  your 
souls  ?  Brethren,  bretliren,  your  minister  has  a  right  to  be  your 
friend  ;  and,  if  you  do  not  mean  to  make  him  such,  do  not  make 
him  your  minister. 

1858. 

In  too  many  of  our  congregations  there  is  an  impatience  of  any 
other  than  "  practical  preaching."  I  know  not  what  the  taste  or 
demand  of  this  people  may  be ;  but  this  I  know,  that,  the  more 
your  preaching  shall  resemble  that  to  which  the  multitude  lis- 
tened as  they  stood  around  the  Galilean  hill,  the  more  practical 
will  it  be  in  tone  and  effect.  And  of  this  also  may  I  remind 
you,  that  all  good  living  must  have  a  basis  of  belief  on  which  to 
rest.  The  Christian  righteousness  grows  out  of  the  root  of 
divine  truth ;  and  the  farmer  might  as  well  expect  to  gather 
fruit  from  the  fence  with  which  he  encloses  his  field  as  the 
Christian  minister  to  make  good  men  by  delivering  mere  moral 
discourses.  We  must  be  believers  if  we  would  be  saints. 
Therefore,  do  not  withhold  clear  or  sufficient  dogmatic  instruc- 
tion. Enable  your  people  to  explain  and  justify  to  themselves 
their  own  faith ;  and  upon  this  foundation  rear  a  superstructure 
of  practical  counsel,  that  shall  have  the  commandments  of  the 
LorJ  as  its  framework. 

You  need  not  leave  Christ  in  order  to  expose  the  sins  of  the 
day.  The  most  timely  preaching  is  a  reproduction  of  the 
Saviour's  words  in  connection  with  present  circumstances ;  as  it 


THE  MINISTER   AND  HIS  BUSINESS.         551 

is  the  same  light  that  shone  on  the  pahn-groves  and  ohve-trees 
of  Judea  wliich  gives  its  rich  shades  to  our  American  foHage. 
In  respect  to  this  style  of  sermon,  let  me  caution  you  against  an 
error  into  which  both  ministers  and  congregations  sometimes 
fall.  There  is  a  great  difference  between  preaching  to  the  times 
and  preaching  at  the  times ;  the  same  difference  that  there  is 
between  persuading  a  man  and  provoking  him.  I  doubt  if  we 
do  the  world  much  good  by  making  it  angry. 

That  you  may  justly  discharge  the  functions  of  the  ministerial 
office,  let  me  address  to  you  the  advice  which  Paul  sent  to 
Timothy  :  "  Give  thyself  wholly  to  these  things."  It  is  advice 
which,  like  a  two-edged  sword,  strikes  down  indulgence  on  this 
side  and  on  that,  —  the  indulgence  of  sloth  and  the  indulgence 
of  taste.  "  Give  thyself  wholh/  ;  "  that  is  plain  and  decisive  lan- 
guage. Wholly.  Keep  back  nothing.  Devote  all  your  ener- 
gies, physical  and  mental,  to  this  work.  Do  your  best ;  do  your 
utmost.  Justify  the  application  to  yourself  of  that  title,  better 
than  any  ever  worn  by  dignitary  or  prelate,  —  "a  workman  that 
needeth  not  to  be  ashamed."  There  are  no  cardinals  nor 
bishops,  thank  God,  under  our  Congregational  .polity ;  but  God 
be  thanked  that  there  is  not  one  of  us  who  may  not  be  a  "'work- 
man." And  the  work  is  worthy  of  all  the  strength  we  can  bring 
to  it.  It  needs  all  our  ability  and  all  our  industry.  It  requires 
all  the  force  and  all  the  skill  and  all  the  culture  and  all  the  zeal 
we  can  lend  to  it.  It  demands  men  who  will  work  in  sight  and 
out  of  sight,  in  their  pulpits  and  in  their  studies.  Of  all  the 
exhibitions  that  wound  a  Christian  sensibility,  what  exceeds  the 
spectacle  of  a  man  standing  before  immortal  fellow-meu,  and 
talking  to  them  of  sin  and  judgment  and  eternity,  as  a  nurse 
would  sing  her  lullabies  to  a  baby  ?  Of  all  the  unworthy  uses 
of  a  social  position,  what  goes  farther  than  his  who  reclines  on 
the  respect  and  confidence  of  hi^  people,  —  like  an  invalid  on  his 
couch,  —  njettinj;  the  reward,  indeed,  of  his  indolence  in  chronic 
infirmities  of  the  mind  ?  My  friend,  be  you  a  student,  llead, 
think,  write,  for  your  own  improvement,  that  your  "  profiting 


552  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

may  appear  to  all."  This  is  not  an  age  of  the  world  in  wliich 
a  minister  may  have  an  easy  time.  He  has  no  right  to  it;  and, 
if  he  had,  the  world  would  not  let  him  enjoy  it.  Men  are 
wanted  of  clear  and  vigorous  minds,  well  trained  and  well 
stored,  to  encounter  the  keen  scepticism  and  to  overthrow  the 
manful  world] iness  of  the  times.  Never  was  tliere  a  period  in 
the  history  of  the  Church  when  a  union  of  knowledge  and  fervor 
was  more  important  in  the  expounders  of  the  Gospel. 

"  Give  thyself  wholly  to  these  things ; "  a  plain  hint  that  other 
things  must  be  left  to  other  men.  You  will  find  enough  to  do 
in  your  own  vocation, — various  as  well  as  constant  emijloyment. 
Content  yourself  with  being  a  good  minister.  Do  not  let  cir- 
cumstances tempt  you  to  dilute  your  consecration  to  this  service 
with  worldly  engagement  of  any  sort.  Do  not  covet  occupation, 
still  less  distinction,  in  any  other  walk  of  life.  It  may  be  advan- 
tageous to  the  health  of  both  body  and  mind  that  you  should 
handle  the  spade  or  the  plane,  just  as  it  will  increase  your  relish 
and  digestion  of  spiritual  truth  to  take  up  often  a  lighter  kind  of 
study.  But  use  all  these  exercises  not  only  as  subordinate,  but 
as  subsidiary,  to  your  professional  usefulness.  Have  one  pur- 
pose in  life,  —  to  make  your  people  ripe  for  heaven.  Be  not 
diverted  from  this  purpose  by  opportunity  or  solicitation.  Ex- 
ercise your  rights  as  a  citizen,  but  leave  political  action  to  those 
who  have  time  for  it.  If  the  town  should  propose  to  send  you 
to  the  Legislature  or  to  Congress,  tell  them  you  really  cannot 
afford  to  go;  for  it  will  cost  you  what  neither  three  hundred  nor 
three  thousand  dollars  a  session  would  repay.  Even  the  inter- 
ests of  education  must  not  obtain  too  great  a  share  of  your  time. 
Do  not  be  ambitious  to  serve  on  the  School  Committee.  It  cer- 
tainly may  be  a  question,  whether  the  New  England  practice  of 
putting  this  task  on  the  clergymen  of  the  town  be  altogether 
wise  or  just.  By  those  who  flxithfully  perform  what  is  imposed 
on  them,  I  know  it  is  often  found  to  be  a  serious  diversion  of 
time  from  other  more  strictly  appropriate  labors.  A  less  close 
and  responsible  connection  with  the  schools  has  become  a  privi- 


THE  MINISTER  AND  HIS  BUSINESS.         553 

lege  which  they  have  a  right  to  claim,  in  view  of  the  miiltiphed 
professional  requisitions  t(>  which  they  are  suhject  on  the  one 
hand,  and  of  the  greatly  augmented  demands  which  our  progres- 
sive system  of  education  makes  upon  its  friends,  on  the  other 
hand. 

The  one  word  which  best  describes  the  spirit  of  a  minister's 
life  is  consecration.  You  belong  not  to  yourself,  but  to  the 
Lord.  You  are  his  servant,  for  whom  you  must  live,  cveii  as 
he,  your  Master,  lives  in  you.  I  charge  you  not  to  make  your 
removal  to  this  place  the  occasion  of  any  loss  of  diligence. 
Eather  "  stir  thou  up  the  gift  of  God,"  which  was  committed  to 
thee  at  thy  induction  into  the  office  of  a  Christian  pastor.  Do 
not  exult  in  the  thought  that  you  have  a  desk  full  of  sermons 
ready  for  use.  If  I  might  utter  a  word  of  strictly  private  coun- 
sel, I  would  suggest  to  you,  my  friend,  the  propriety  of  putting 
those  manuscripts  under  lock  and  key,  and  then  forgetting  where 
you  have  put  the  key.  You  ought  to  be  able  to  write  better 
sermons  now  than  you  wrote  when  you  were  a  younger  man. 
But  it  requires  a  great  deal  of  courage  and  conscience  to  sit 
down  before  sixteen  pages  'of  blank  paper,  when,  by  opening  a 
drawer  at  one's  right  hand,  he  can  substitute  for  them  just  that 
number  of  well-written  pages,  which  none  of  his  congregation 
have  ever  seen. 

A  single-hearted  dedication  of  yourself  to  the  true  ends  of  the 
ministry  will  secure  you  in  the  enjoyment  of  an  independence, 
without  which  your  efficiency  must  be  crippled.  This  indepen- 
dence is  endangered,  not  only  by  assault  from  abroad,  but  by  an 
involuntary  deference  arising  out  of  the  admiration  we  feel  for 
those  who  are  successful  in  an  enterprise  like  our  own.  Be  not 
eager  to  resemble  any  one  of  your  contemporaries;  since  a  man's 
strength  always  lies  in  what  belongs  to  him  as  his  own,  not  in 
what  he  has  borrowed.  Be  true  to  your  own  nature.  God  has 
made  us  to  differ,  and  each  one  must  excel  in  his  own  way. 
Peculiarities  may  be  both  innocent  and  helpful,  if  they  be 
natural ;  but,  if  acquired,  they  are  a  weight  and  an  offence.     Be 


554  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT, 

neither  a  servile  copyist  nor  an  aaibitious  rival.  Men  love 
honesty  everywhere,  but  most  of  aU  in  the  pulpit.  A  mock- 
ing-bird astonishes  us,  but  we  soon  grow  weary  of  astonishment; 
while  the  bobolink  of  our  woods  never  tires  us  with  his  note,  nor 
the  robbin,  nor  even  the  sparrow.  Peril  to  one's  truthfulness 
comes  in  part  from  the  constraint  under  which  many  persons  are  ■ 
put  by  social  opinion :  they  are  afraid  to  differ  from  those  whom 
they  respect  or  love.  It  is  a  subtle  influence,  which,  when  re- 
sisted, sometimes  produces  a  disagreeable  bluntness  or  obstinacy, 
either  of  which  is  a  detriment  to  a  minister's  usefulness.  The 
only  effectual  means  of  protection  against  this  influence  lies  in  that 
unconscious  superiority  which  is  seen  in  one  so  entirely  engaged 
in  his  work  that  the  thought  of  others'  judgment  does  not  find 
room  to  lodge  in  his  mind.  Real  independence  belongs  to  him 
who  thinks  least  about  it.  The  rights  of  the  pulpit  are  most 
likely  to  be  maintained  by  one  who  never  speaks  of  them, 
because  he  feels  no  anxiety  lest  they  should  be  invaded.  I 
have  never  yet  seen  reason  to  believe  that  the  people  of  New 
Eno-land  wish  to  listen  to  one  whom  they  have  robbed  of  the 
power  of  free  speech ;  and  I  cannot  doubt  that  he  who  is  least 
jealous  of  an  interference  with  his  own  privileges  will  have  least 
occasion  for  their  defence. 

In  the  details  of  your  ministry,  distinct  from  the  prominent 
function  of  preaching,  let  the  same  purpose  control,  the  same 
spirit  animate  you,  as  in  the  exercise  of  that  function.  In  the 
conference-room  and  the  Sunday  school,  with  the  Bible  class 
and  the  social  meeting,  in  your  pastoral  visits  and  in  your  inter- 
views with  the  sick  and  the  bereaved,  seek  one  result  as  the  goal 
of  your  various  yet  concui-rent  efforts ;  to  wit,  the  redei  ption  of 
human  souls  from  the  tyranny  and  ruin  of  sin.  Everywhere 
keep  in  mind  the  two  great  facts  of  the  Christian  life, —  binh 
and  growth,  the  beginning  and  the  progress  ;  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment lanijuaije,  re<ieneration  and  sanctification.  Be  not  satisfied 
with  promoting  good  neighborhood  and  preventing  social  dis- 
order.     It  is  only  an  incident  of  our  religion  that  it  acts  as  the 


THE  MINISTER  AND  HIS  BUSINESS.         655 

world's  police.  Its  visible  effects  are  the  consequence  of  an 
inward  operation :  the  consciousness,  that  innermost  retreat  of 
our  personality,  is  the  seat  of  its  power.  To  implant  Christian 
sentiments  in  the  heart  is  the  surest  way  to  produce  an  exhil)i- 
tion  of  the  social  virtues.  The  relations  which  men  sustain  to 
God  are  immeasurably  more  important  than  those  which  they 
hold  to  one  another.  The  destinies  of  immortality  who  sliall 
think  of  comparing  with  the  success  or  misfortune  that  may 
attend  on  any  worldly  enterprise  ?  Now  it  is  your  business  to 
present  these  primary  relations  and  final  destinies  in  such  terms 
as  shall  arrest  attention,  compel  belief,  inspire  a  sense  of  duty, 
and  create  an  experience  of  the  peace  which  "  passeth  all  under- 
standing." Not  I,  not  we  who  are  assembled  in  sympathy  with 
your  own  hope,  but  the  providence  of  God  and  the  cross  of 
Christ  charge  you  not  to  evade  or  imperil  the  high  commission 
which  you  bear  as  one  who  in  Christ's  name  should  beseech  men 
to  be  reconciled  to  God.  Hark !  my  brother.  Hear  you  not 
the  smothered  cries  of  want  and  ignorance  and  fear,  entreating 
you  to  come  to  their  rescue  ?  Hear  you  not  the  voice  of  Jesus, 
saying  from  the  midst  of  his  toil  and  his  death,  "  Fill  ye  up  " 
what  remaineth  of  the  agencies  of  mercy  ?  Hear  you  not  the 
command  of  God,  to  "  spend  and  be  spent "  for  the  salvation  of 
those  whom  you  may  guide  from  the  paths  of  destruction  to  the 
city  of  refuge  ?  Bear  you  every  thing,  and  brave  every  thing, 
rather  than  the  remembrance  of  a  superficial  or  perfunctory  ser- 
vice at  the  altar  on  which  the  Lamb  of  God  was  offered  a  volun- 
tary sacrifice  "  for  the  sins  of  the  people." 

In  your  private  character,  be  you  "  an  example  to  the  be- 
lievers." In  these  days,  when  the  old  reverence  for  the  clergy 
has  given  way  to  a  captious  or  indignant  criticism,  there  is  more 
need  than  ever  that  the  minister  of  religion  should  be  a  man  of 
blameless  life.  His  influence  hangs  on  his  character.  If  men 
respect  him  for  his  integrity  and  consistency,  they  will  give  heed 
to  what  he  says ;  if  they  do  not,  he  becomes  to  them  a  mere 
clerical  demagogue.  Do  not  be  afraid  of  showing  the  quality  of 
your  mind.     Let  it  be  seen   that  you  are  "a  man  of  God." 


556  EZEA   STILES   GANNETT. 

Because  you  should  not  sink  the  man  in  the  minister,  you  need 
not  sink  the  minister  in  the  man.  Lay  aside  gown  and  bands  if 
you  please,  the  white  cravat  and  the  black  coat  (though  they  are 
not  without  their  use  through  the  force  of  association),  but  do 
not  lay  aside  the  seriousness,  the  dignity,  the  prudence,  or  the 
meekness,  which  become  a  servant  of  Jesus  Christ,  while  en- 
gaged in  his  household.  If  they  be  nothing  but  the  livery  which 
shows  who  is  your  Master,  that  livery  you  are  bound  to  wear. 
Before  men,  be  you  without  reproach ;  and,  if  possible,  before 
God.  Keep  a  pure  conscience  and  a  clean  heart  in  His  sight 
who  seeth  what  is  within  us.  "  Take  heed  to  yourself,"  for  the 
ministry  has  its  peculiar  temptations.  Beware  of  the  influence 
of  praise  on  the  simplicity  of  your  character,  and  beware  of  the 
tendency  of  habit  to  sink  into  routine.  Freshen  your  piety  by 
constant  prayer.  Invigorate  your  faith  by  continual  obedience. 
Illustrate  your  teaching  by  your  own  example.  There  may 
seem  to  be  little  difference  between  a  minister  who  rejoices  in 
his  work,  and  one  who  goes  through  its  duties  medianically ; 
and  yet  it  is  the  difference  between  freedom  and  bondage.  In 
the  same  train  of  cars  which  bore  some  of  your  friends  to  unite 
in  the  satisfactions  of  this  hour  were  a  company  of  prisoners, 
handcuffed,  and  forced  to  travel  through  the  sweet  summer 
morning,  with  all  nature  smiling  around  them.  Yet  their  hearts 
received  no  pleasurable  excitement  from  the  motion  or  the 
scenery.  They  went  as  they  were  carried,  because  circum- 
stances were  stronger  than  they.  I  think  I  have  seen  some 
ministers  who  wore  the  handcuffs  of  habit,  and  moved  along 
the  road  of  life  with  a  dull  unconcern,  prisoners  of  a  condition 
stronger  than  their  own  will.  Let  your  heart  be  in  your  min- 
istry, and  let  it  bear  you  every  day  nearer  to  heaven. 

1860. 

The  very  first  condition  of  happiness  or  success  with  a  min- 
ister is  that  he  be  full  of  faith.  It  is  not  with  a  mind  beset  by 
doubts,  or  entangled  in  the  meshes  of  a  subtle  philosophy,  that 
you  should  take  on  yourself  the  instruction  of  this  people.  You 
do  not  come  to  set  before  them  speculations,  conjectures,  idle 


THE  MINISTER  AND  HIS  BUSINESS,         557 

fancies.  They  have  not  invited  you  hither  that  you  may  have 
an  opportunity  of  ascertaining  by  study  and  observation  whether 
there  is  any  truth  in  religion.  They  have  not  asked  you  to 
come  among  them  for  your  sake,  but  for  theirs.  They  expect 
you  to  explain  and  urge  the  great  religious  facts  as  you  umbld 
to  their  view  the  positive  duties  of  life.  To  a  minister,  faith  is 
what  capital  is  to  the  merchant,  or  genius  to  the  artist:  it  is 
what  he  must  work  from  and  work  with. 

In  pursuing  your  ministry,  have  a  definite  aim,  and  adhere  to 
it.  Know  what  you  are  trying  to  do.  Every  one  who  suc- 
ceeds in  life  has  a  purpose,  which  he  keeps  steadily  in  view. 
Labor  expended  without  an  object  is  thrown  away.  Now  and 
then  one,  in  clambering  a  hill  with  a  vacant  mind,  may  put  his 
hand  on  a  shrub  whose  roots,  laid  bare  by  the  seizure,  shall  tell 
him  that  he  is  walking  over  beds  of  golden  ore  ;  but  that  is  a 
rare  experience,  and  still  more  rarely  does  it  benefit  tlie  dis- 
coverer. -The  man  who  arrives  at  an  end  worth  reaching  sets 
out  for  that  end.  Your  aim  is  the  same  with  his  whose  min- 
istry began  in  the  wilderness  and  ended  on  the  cross.  You 
wish  to  save  men  from  sin  and  lead  them  to  God.  Tliis  is  the 
purpose  for  which  ydu  will  labor  and  live.  It  is  too  great  a 
jDurpose  to  be  lightly  undertaken,  too  solemn  a  purpose  to  be 
carelessly  entertained.  Let  this  purpose  govern  and  animate 
you.  Your  sermons  will  then  have  meaning  and  effect,  your 
conversation  point  and  value,  your  life  significance  and  weight. 
It  has  been  said  that  sermons  are  sometimes  written  because  on 
Sunday  the  preacher  is  expected  to  keep  the  people  awake  or 
asleep  for  half  an  hour.  Sermons  of  this  sort  are  made  from 
the  dictionary,  not  from  a  human  brain  or  a  human  heart. 
Eschew  such  preaching,  as  the  most  barefaced  insult  to  man  and 
the  grossest  abuse  of  Divine  forbearance.  Preach  thought, 
preach  sense,  preach  God's  truth  and  Christ's  love  and  man's 
duty  and  the  aoul's  need  and  the  world's  peril,  tlie  great  salva- 
tion and  the  glorious  hope  that  have  come  through  the  Gosi)el ; 
and  preach  with  all  your  might,  for  the  sake  of  bringing  men 
into  the  kinsfdom  of  heaven. 


558  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 


In  maintaining  your  professional  loyalty,  you  will  of  course  be 
brought  into  occasional,  if  not  frequent,  collision  with  opinions 
and  practices  around  you  ;  and  will  be  obliged  to  vindicate  your 
independence  of  conventional  restrictions  and  social  influences, 
by  an  example  which  may  conflict  with  the  standard  of  the 
times.  Yet  in  this  community,  and  I  believe  in  every  Christian 
community,  a  minister  is  respected  for  his  integrity  of  life,  even 
though  it  rebuke  the  ways  of  society.  The  people  do  not  com- 
plain of  a  preacher  for  illustrating  the  excellence  and  practi- 
cability of  his  own  instructions.  And  therefore  there  is  perhaps 
as  much  need  to  caution  him  against  running  into  the  error  of  a 
false  independence  as  to  remind  him  that  he  must  not  let  his 
conduct  out  of  the  pulpit  bring  the  sincerity  of  his  public  dis- 
course under  suspicion.  There  is  a  parade  of  clerical  manliness, 
which  is  only  the  disguise  of  conscious  weakness ;  as  there  is  an 
affectation  of  liberty,  which  betrays  a  want  of  sound  judgment. 
Let  me  charge  you  to  be  simple  and  true.  Eccentricity  is  not 
freedom  :  it  is  only  an  exchange  of  masters,  custom  for  self-will. 
Do  not  exhibit  or  cherish  any  reluctance  to  appear  as  a  minister. 
Why,  in  the  name  of  honor  or  honesty,  should  you  not  be  known 
as  what  you  are  ?  The  lawyer,  the  merf hant,  the  mechanic,  is 
not  afraid  to  be  seen  with  the  lawyer's  brief  or  the  merchant's 
ledger  or  the  mechanic's  tool  in  his  hand,  or  to  be  heard  using 
language  which  indicates  his  employment.  .Why  should  the 
minister  wish  to  hide  the  badges  of  his  office  ?  Just  be  simple 
and  true,  and  think  nothing  about  the  judgment  of  others  on 
your  appearance.  Then  you  will  make  the  best  impression,  and 
save  yourself  a  world  of  trouble. 

Occasions,  however,  will  continually  arise  on  which  you  must 
maintain  more  or  less  of  a  professional  character.  Not  only  in 
the  days  of  sickness  and  mourning,  when  you  will  be  called,  or 
be  led  by  your  own  sympathies,  into  the  homes  of  your  people, 
but  in  your  usual  visits  at  their  houses,  you  should  endeavor  to 
leave  a  ministerial  blessing.  I  do  not  mean  to  suggest  that  you 
should  carry  a  grave  face  over  every  threshold,  or  make  your 


THE  MINISTER   AND  HIS  BUSINESS.         559 

whole  conversation  to  bear  on  religious  subjects ;  for  this  would 
be  as  foolish  as  it  would  be  difficult,  alike  unnatural  and  useless. 
But  I  do  charge  you  to  take  the  purpose  of  your  ministry  as 
a  guide  and  prompter  in  seizing  on  every  opi)ortunity  for  ad- 
dressing spiritual  counsel  to  those  who  will  welcome,  if  they  do 
not  expect  it."  One  of  the  hardest  practical  questions  which 
comes  before  us,  my  brother,  concerns  the  character  of  our  pa- 
rochial iniei course.  It  may  be  made  stiff  and  repulsive;  and  it 
may  degenerate  into  idle  gossip  or  worldly  friendship.  Avoid 
both  extremes.  Have  a  spirit  of  faithfulness  in  your  breast,  and 
you^  will  not  fall  into  any  serious  mistake.  I  once  heard  a 
brother  say  —  he  said  it  modestly,  when  it  was  a  proper  remark 
—  that,  as  he  stood  on  the  doorstep  waiting  for  admission  into 
the  house  of  a  family  befonging  to  his  congregation,  he  prayed 
for  wisdom  to  make  his  visit  profitable  to  them.  It  opened 
a  glimpse  into  the  secret  history  of  a  life  which  I  longed  to 
imitate. 

You  will  meet  with  discouragements  and  disappointments  in 
your  ministry.  You  would  meet  with  them  in  any  ministry  on 
earth.  They  belong  to  the  experience  of  man,  which  always 
includes  the  trials  that  brace  the  character  and  mature  the  judg- 
ment. The  friend  who  will  express  to  you  our  Christian  fellow- 
ship will  speak  words  of  cheer  and  hope.  I  charge  you  not  to 
yield  to  early  or  later  difficulties,  that  may  sometimes  make  your 
feet  weary  as  you  tread  the  path  of  conscientious  service.  Do 
not  forsake  your  work  as  soon  as  it  loses  its  pleasant  novelty, — 
obeying  the  fashion  of  the  times  rather  than  the  voice  of  duty 
or  the  dictates  of  discretion.  An  humble,  faithful,  wise  minister 
will  seldom  take  or  give  —  never  take,  seldom  give  —  offence 
that  will  last.  Be  sincere  and  diligent,  modest  yet  courageous, 
cheerful  though  earnest,  a  hard  worker,  a  firm  believer,  a  cordial 
friend,  a  good  man,  and  you  will  not  be  unsuccessful.  I  cliarge 
you,  my  brother,  to  "make  full  proof  of  your  ministry."  What 
more  need  I  say  ?  Make  full  proof  of  your  ministry  from  this 
night,  on  and  through,  to  the  end. 


660  EZRA   STILES  GANNETT. 

1847. 
LIFE   IN   DEATH. 

According  to  the  Christian  revelation,  and  according  to  the 
example  of  Christ,  we  live  when  we  are  true  to  ourselves  as 
moral,  spiritual,  immortal  beings ;  when  we  are  penetrated  by  a 
sense  of  God,  the  Infinite  Life  of  the  universe ;  when  we  look 
out  of  the  shadows  of  a  passing  hour  into  the  realities  of  the 
Divine  law  and  the  Divine  love  ;  when  the  objects  of  faith  are 
interwoven  with  our  consciousness  by  the  threads  of  spiritual 
sympathy,  and  our  present  toil  becomes  the  promise  and  security 
of  our  future  glory.  To  live,  in  the  sense  which  the  Gospel 
adopts,  is  to  cherish  high  aims  and  pure  purposes ;  to  feel  that 
we  have  souls  and  to  treat  them  worthily ;  to  use  the  flesh  as  the 
instrument  of  the  spirit,  and  the  world  as  the  means  of  reaching 
an  elevation  above  its  cares  and  follies.  He  lives,  who  under- 
stands what  he  should  live  for.  He  lives,  who  is  quickened  and 
filled  with  the  Divine  spirit  of  truth. 

To  one  who  has  realized  such  a  life,  what  we  call  death  ceases 
to  have  the  character  usually  ascribed  to  it.  It  is  a  circumstance 
in  the  course  of  his  experience,  not  the  end  of  liis  being ;  a  cir- 
cumstance connected  with  momentous  consequences,  but  not  the 
terrific  fact  which  fills  so  many  minds  with  dread.  To  die  is  to 
pass  into  a  more  intense  consciousness  of  life,  —  to  lay  aside  the 
incumbrance  of  the  flesh,  which  impaired  the  force  of  that  con- 
sciousness here,  and  to  become  more  sensible,  through  spiritual 
affinities  and  an  actual  participation,  of  the  divine  element  which 
pervades  all  nature.  Death  is  the  entrance  to  a  higher  and 
fuller  life. 

Under  this  view,  the  time  and  manner  of  the  soul's  departure 
from  its  present  "  tabernacle  "  are  seen  to  be  of  but  little  impor- 
tance. In  the  haste  of  our  grief  at  the  death  of  a  friend,  we  may 
speak  of  it  as  premature,  and  so  it  may  appear  to  a  judgment 
guided  by  mortal  associations.  But,  if  the  event  itself  be  only 
a  circumstance  in  the  progress  of  an  immortal  nature  towards 
perfection,  it  cannot  with  propriety  be  styled  premature.     He 


WELL  DONE,  FAITHFUL   SERVANT!  561 

who  has  died  has  in  fact  surmounted  a  great  obstruction  in  his 
way  to  glory,  —  an  obstruction  which  interrupted  his  full  experi- 
ence of  life ;  how  can  the  removal  of  such  an  obstruction  ever 
take  place  too  soon  ?  We  speak  of  sudden  death  as  a  calamity. 
But  to  whom  ?  Not  to  him  who  is  prepared  for  the  change : 
to  him  no  more  a  calamity  than  any  other  sudden  access  of  hap- 
piness. Nor  to  those  who  remain  behind  is  it  an  unmitigated 
calamity ;  since  they,  through  the  strength  of  their  love  over- 
powering the  sense  of  bereavement,  may  participate  in  the  joy 
of  him  who  has  risen  from  the  confinement  of  his  earthly  abode 
to  the  mansions  whose  walls  embrace  the  universe  and  rest  on 
eternal  foundations.  He  has  gained  what  he  was  continually 
seeking,  —  less  constraint  and  more  enjoyment  in  the  use  of  his 
faculties.  He  was  pressing  on,  and  God  stretched  out  His  hand 
and  helped  him  forward. 


1866. 
WELL   DONE,   GOOD   AND   FAITHFUL   SERVANT! 

When  I  was  able  to  collect  my  thoughts  after  hearing  of  his 
removal,  the  knowledge  of  which  came  to  most  of  us  like  the 
lightning's  blinding  flash,  the  one  word  that  seemed  to  me  to  be 
the  central  point  in  my  recollection  of  him  was  faithful,  — faith- 
ful. It  would  yield  its  place  to  no  other  word ;  no  other  word 
would  fill  its  place.  He  had  been  a  fliithful  minister,  a  faithful 
man ;  faithful  in  public  and  in  private ;  faithful  in  his  home ; 
faithful  in  his  pastoral  relations,  as  so  many  aching  hearts  attest ; 
faithful  in  his  delivery  of  the  message  witli  which  he  was  in- 
trusted for  the  congregation  when  he  met  them  here  ;  faithful 
in  the  closet,  since  only  in  communion  with  God  could  he  have 
acquired  that  purity  and  solidity  of  character  which  came  under 
our  notice  ;  faithful  according  to  that  which  had  been  committed 
to  him,  —  whether  ten  talents  or  two  it  matters  not,  so  long  as 
the  encouragement  stands  ample  for  our  imitation. 

I  linjrered  over  the  word.  I  couhl  not  resist  tlie  fascination 
and  the  authority  with  which  it  held  me.     At  last  I  released 

36 


56^  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

myself  from  this  monotone  of  thought,  only  to  be  caught  within 
the  grasp  of  another  word  that  appeared  not  less  to  belong  to 
him,  —  "done."  It  held  me  as  I  repeated  the  sentence  so 
appropriate  in  this  new  connection,  — "  Well  done,  good  and 
faithful  servant !  '*  It  seemed  to  me  to  separate  itself  from  the 
rest  of  the  line,  and  to  stand  in  its  own  absolute  meaning.  Done, 
—  finished,  —  the  work  ended,  —  the  time  arrived  for  us  to  give 
him  up,  —  the  earthly  life  completed  as  well  as  closed,  —  was  this 
its  meaning?  The  more  I  thought,  the  more  ready  was  I  to 
accejDt  it  in  this  sense.  Why  not  ?  It  does  not  lessen  our  faith 
in  another  life,  to  believe  that  this  had  rounded  its  circle.  We 
borrow  fresh  assurance  of  immortality  from  such  a  truth.  To 
die  when  earth  has  no  more  work  to  demand  of  us  is  to  enter 
on  om'  heavenly  progress  at  the  right  moment.  He  of  whom  I 
am  speaking  once  added,  after  quoting  from  the  lips  of  another 
the  expression,  "  He  has  passed  on,"  "  Passed  on  !  Beautiful 
thought !  He  has  not  stopped,  he  has  not  ceased  to  be  ;  he  has 
passed  on,  in  faith  and  duty  and  love,  to  higher  labors  and  unde- 
filed  reward."  Shall  not  we  say  the  same  of  the  friend  whose 
mortal  vestment  alone  is  waiting  for  its  burial  ?  Yet,  before 
I  follow  the  spirit  to  its  new  abode,  I  must  tarry  a  little  longer 
near  this  sign  of  the  past,  —  doiie.  Had  he  not  finished  his 
work?  Had  not  the  earthly  life  reached  its  natural  limit? 
Ignorantly  indeed,  but  truly,  he  was  the  prophet  of  his  own 
departure.  He  did  not  know,  when  he  delivered  back  into  your 
hands  the  ministry  which  you  had  placed  in  his  hands,  that  he 
could  have  retained  it  but  a  few  weeks  longer.  Ho  had  asked 
for  a  little  longer  period  of  co-operation  with  you  in  behalf  of 
the  interests  which  were  nearest  to  his  heart.  "  Let  me  serve 
you  whenever  I  can,  till  strength  and  life  fail."  How  charac- 
teristic the  wish !  How  like  his  whole  course  the  request  con- 
veyed in  those  words  !  Work ;  with  you ;  always.  But  he  had 
lived  out  his  appointed  term.  The  unseen  messenger  of  the  Di- 
vine love  touched  the  thread  which  was  just  ready  to  break,  and 
the  released  spirit  "  passed  on,"  —  passed  up,  passed  into  the 
blissful  recompense  of  the  faithful. 

Not  here,  where  he  pointed  the  mourner  to  heaven ;  nor  there, 


WELL   DONE,   FAITHFUL   SERVANT!  563 

whence  he  lifted  the  eye  of  faith  to  the  spiritual  mansions ;  nor 
in  any  place,  nor  at  any  time,  —  let  us  speak  of  liiin  as  dead. 
It  is  a  sad  and  cold  word.  Alive,  cdive,  more  conscious  of  life 
than  he  could  be  while  with  us;  with  undimmed  sight  and 
renewed  strength;  welcomed  by  those  who  had  gone  before 
him ;  surrounded  by  the  holy  and  happy  ones  in  whose  society 
the  intimacies  of  earth  are  not  forgotten,  thougli  the  sympathies 
of  the  soul  be  quickened ;  gazing  on  that  face,  radiant  with  light, 
which  he  loved  to  study  as  he  saw  it  through  the  gloom  of  cruci- 
fixion, or  prostrate  in  the  rapture  of  adoi-atiou  before  llim  who 
is  at  once  hidden  and  revealed  by  the  ineffable  glory ;  drinking 
in  with  delight  the  knowledge  which  on  every  side  invites  his 
enjoyment,  or  moving  in  rapid  flight  to  execute  the  errands  of 
Divine  grace  on  which  he  is  sent  through  realms  of  being  that 
have  never  passed  across  the  astronomer's  field  of  vision,  or 
bending  in  fond  ministries  of  influence  over  those  whom  he  has 
left  to  bear  a  little  longer  life's  toil  and  peril,  —  so  will  we  think 
of  him.  And,  as  our  thoughts  climb  up  to  the  blessed  experience 
of  which  he  is  now  a  partaker,  our  ears  shall  be  uusealed,  and 
the  echo  of  that  salutation  which  greeted  him  when  he  passed 
throucjh  the  flamiuor  crates  into  the  celestial  abodes  shall  fall  like 
heavenly  music  on  our  spirits,  —  "  Well  done,  good  and  faithful 
servant !  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 


APPENDIX. 


PRINTED   SERMONS,    ADDRESSES,   AND  ESSAYS. 

(Most  of  these  printed  in  pamphlets.) 

Of  Religious  Doctrine,  Feeling,  and  Life. 

1830.  The  Defect  of  the  Times  :  in  the  "  Unitarian  Advocate." 
Personal  Interest  in  Religion  :  in  the  "  Unitarian  Advocate." 
The  New  Birth  :  in  the  "  Unitarian  Advocate." 
Unitarian  Christianity  Suited  to  Make  Men  Holy  :  Sermon 

at  the  Ordination  of  Rev.  A.  B.  Muzzey,  at  Framingham. 
The  Doctrine  of  Divine  Influence  :  in  the  ' '  Unitarian  Advo- 
cate." 
Sufferings  and  Death  of  Children  Consistent  with  the  Divine 
Goodness  :  in  Rev.  Francis  Parkman's  "  Offering  of  Sym- 
pathy." 

1831.  Divine  Providence  :  in  the  "  Unitarian  Advocate." 
Necessity  and    Sufficiency   of   Religion:    in  the   "Liberal 

Preacher,"  and  reprinted   in  the    "Monthly  Religious 

Magazine,"  November,  1871. 
A  Sermon  on  Religion  for  Children. 

Revivals  :  American  Unitarian  Association  Tract,  No.  50. 
Repentance  :  in  the  "  Unitarian  Advocate." 

1832.  The  Claims  of  Religion  on  the  Female  Sex  :  in  the  "  Liberal 

Preacher. ' ' 
The  Demoniacs  of  the  New  Testament  :  from  the  "  Scrip- 
tural Interpreter." 

1833.  Unitarianism  Not  a  Negative  System  :  Sermon  at  the  Dedi- 

cation of   the    Independent    Congregational    Church  in 
Ipswich.     American  Unitarian  Association  Tract,  No.  91. 

1834.  A  New  Year's  Wish  for  the  Children  of  my  Society. 

1835.  To  the  Children  of  the  Federal  Street  Society. 

1836.  A  Life  of  Prayer  :  in  the  "  Liberal  Preacher." 


566  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

1836.  Religious  Consolation  :  A  volume  of  selections  edited  by 
E.  S.  G.,  with  an  Introduction  on  Christian  Faith.  Sec- 
ond edition,  1854:. 

1839.  Atonement.     A.  U.  A.  Tract,  No.  149. 

1840.  Unitarian  Christianity,  What  it  Is,  and  What  it  Is  Not : 

Sermon  at   the  Installation  of   Rev.  John  Parkman,  at 
Dover,  N.H. 
The  Spring  :  A  Sermon  for  Children. 

1S42.  Righteousness  the  Central  Principle  of  Christianity  and  the 
True  Basis  of  the  Unitarian  Denomination  :  A  Sermon 
delivered  before  the  Unitarian  Convention  at  Worcester. 
American  Unitarian  Association  Tract,  No    184. 

1843.  The  Value  of  Natural  Religion  :  The  Dudleian  Lecture  at 
Harvard  College.     From  the  "  Christian  Examiner." 

1845.    Mr.  Parker  and  his  Views  :  from  the  "  Christian  Examiner." 
The  Faith  of  the  Unitarian  Christian  Explained,  Justified, 
and   Distinguished  :    Sermon  at  the   Dedication  of  the 
Unitarian  Church  in  Montreal,  Canada.     American  Uni- 
tarian Association  Tract,  No.  220. 

1846-1847.  Ten  Lectures  on  the  Scriptures.  In  the  "  Christian 
World"  and  the  "  Sunday  Telegraph,"  Dec.  to  April. 

1847.  The  Essential  in  Christianity  :  A.  U.  A.  Tract,  No.  241. 

1848.  To  the  Children  of  the  Congregation. 

Trust  in  God  :   in  "  Sermons  on  Christian  Communion," 
edited  by  J.  R.  Sullivan. 

1849.  The  Nature  and  Importance  of  our  Theology  :  An  Address 

read  before  the  Ministerial  Conference  in  Boston.     From 

the  "  Christian  Examiner." 
1856.    The  Unitarian  Belief  :  from  the  "  Quarterly  Journal  of  the 

Ahierican  Unitarian  Association." 
1859.    The  Soul's  Salvation  through  Faith  in  Christ  :  Sermon  at 

the  Ordination  of  Rev.  J.  C.  Kimball,  at  Beverly. 
1862.    The  Doctrinal  Basis  of  Christianity  to  be  Preached  :  Sermon 

at  the  Ordination  of  Rev.  James  DeNormandie,  at  Ports- 
mouth, N.II. 
1864.    Loyalty  to  Christ  :  Sermon  at  the  Installation  of  Rev.  A.  P. 

Putnam,  at  Brooklyn,  N.Y. 
1868.    Christ's    Gracious     Invitation    and    Promise  :    A    Sermon 

preached  at  the  Boston    Theatre.      In  the    "  Christian 

Register,"     January    18. 
1871.    The  Belief  of  Unitarians  :  Introductory  Sermon  of  a  Course 

on  Unitarian  Doctrines  delivered  in  Boston.     From  the 

*'  Christian  Register,"  March  4,  1871. 


APPENDIX.  567 


Of  the  Ministry. 

1833.    The  Christian  :Ministry  :  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Rev. 
A.  P.  Peabody,  at  Portsmonth,  N.II. 

1835.    Address  to  the  Society  at  the  Installation  of  Pvcv.  W.  P. 
Lunt,  at  Qiiincy. 

184:0.    Charge    at  the   Ordination  of   Rev.    George    E.   Ellis,    at 
Charlestown. 

1842.  A  Devoted  :Ministry  :    Sermon  at  the   Ordination  of  Rev. 
J.  I.  T.  Coolidge  over  the  Purchase  Street  Congregational 
Church  in  Boston. 
Charge  at  the  Ordination  of  Rev.  Amos  Smith  over  the 
New  North  Church  in  Boston. 

1846.    Address  to  the  People  at  the  Installation  of  Rev.   David 
Fosdick  at  Hollis  Street  Church  in  Boston. 

1848.    The  Relation  of  the  Pulpit  to  Future  Ages:    A  Sermon 
preached  before  the  Massachusetts  Convention  of  Con- 
gregational Ministers.     From  the  ' '  Christian  Examiner. 
1853.    Charge  at  the  Installation  of  Rev.  Rufus  Ellis  over  the  First 
Church  in  Boston. 

1855.  Address  to  the  People  at  the  Installation  of  Rev.  Charles 

Eowe  over  the  North  Church  in  Salem. 

1856.  Address  to  the  People  at  the  Installation  of  Rev.  E.  E.  Hale 

over  the  South  Congregational  Church  in  Boston. 

1858.    Charge  at  the  Installation  of  Rev.  G.  Reynolds,  at  Concord. 

1867.  Address  at  the  Semi-Centennial  Celebration  of  the  Cam- 
bridge Divinity  School. 

Of  Philanthropy  and  Education. 

1831  Address  delivered  before  the  Boston  Sunday  School  Society 
on  the  Fiftieth  Anniversary  of  the  Sunday  School  Insti- 
tution. ,.         ^  ,    .       ., 

1846  The  Temperance  Cause  :  A  Discourse  delivered  before  the 
Boston  Young  Men's  Total  Abstinence  Society.     ^ 

1848.  The    Object,  Subjects,  and   Methods    of   the   Ministry  at 

Large  :    A    Discourse    delivered  before  the   Benevolent 
Fraternity  of  Churches. 

1849.  Sermon  before  the  Fatherless  and  Widows'  Society. 

1850.  Education  the  Means  of  Giving  Woman  her  Proper  Position 

in  Society  :  An  Addre.^s  delivered  before  the  Graduat  s 
and  Members  of  the  West  Newton  State  Normal  School. 


668  EZRA   STILES   GANNETT, 

1852.  The  Spirit  of   Reform  :    A  Fast  Day  Sermon.     From  the 

"  Boston  Evening  Transcript." 

1853.  Domestic  Discipline  :  A  Fast  J)ay  Sermon.     In  the  "  Boston 

Evening  Transcript." 

1857.   Dissipation  :  A  Sermon. 

The  Influence  of  Woman  :  A  Sermon.     (Not  published.) 
Antioch  College  :  in  the  "  Quarterly  Journal  of  the  Ameri- 
can Unitarian  Association." 

1860.  Address  delivered  before  the  Sunday  School  Convention  at 
Fitchburg. 

1863.  The  Benevolent  Fraternity  of  Churches  :  A  Discourse  deliv- 
ered in  the  Arlington  Street  Church.  Also  printed  with 
the  "  Twenty-Ninth  Annual  Report  of  the  Boston  Fra- 
ternity of  Churches." 

Of  the  Nation. 

1830.  Importance  of  a  Just  Moral  Sentiment  in  the  People  of  the 
United  States  :  A  Thanksgiving  Day  Discourse. 

1835.    The  Times  :  in  the  "  Knickerbocker  Magazine." 

1842.    The  Religion  of  Politics  :  the  Annual  Election  Sermon. 

1845.   Peace,  Not  War  :  A  Sermon  preached  December  14. 

1850.    Our  Help  is  in  God  :  A  Sermon  preached  February  24,  the 
Fugitive  Slave  Bill  being  under  discussion. 
Thanksgiving  for  the  Union  :  A  Thanksgiving  Day  Sermon. 

1854.  Relation  of  the  North  to  Slavery  ;  A  Sermon  preached  June 

11,  after  the  rendition  of  Burns. 
1856.    The  State  of  the  Country  :   A  Sermon  preached  June  8, 

after  Brooks's  assault  on  Charles  Sumner. 
1860.    A  Sober  Word  for  the  Hour  :  A  Thanksgiving  Day  Sermon, 

on  the  evp  of  war. 
1863.    Repentance    amidst    Deliverance  ;    Mobs ;    Two    Sermons 

preached  July  12  and  July  19,  after  Gettysburg  and  the 

New  York  riots. 


On  Special  Occasions. 

1840.  The  Arrival  of  the  "  Britannia." 

1851.  The  Railroad  Jubilee  :  in  the  "  Boston  Evening  Transcript." 

1858.  The  Atlantic  Telegraph. 

1860.  The  Prince's  Visit. 

1868.  The  National  Commercial  Convention. 


APPENDIX.  509 

Memorials  of  Friends. 
1842.    Address  at  the  Funeral  of  Rev.  W.   K.    Chaimin^',  D.D., 
and  Sermon    delivered   in  the   Federal   Street   Meetinj,'- 
honse  on  the  Sunday  after  the  Death  of  Dr.  Channing  : 
with  Notes.     The  former  also  printed  as  American  Uni- 
tarian Association  Tract,  No.  187. 
1847.    A  Good  Old  Age  :  A  Sermon  memorial  of  Hon.  John  Davis, 
LL.D. 
Discourse  delivered  at  the  Funeral  of  Rev.  W.  B.  O.  IVa- 

body,  D.D.,  in  Springfield. 
The  Good  Judge  ;    A  Sermon  memorial  of   lion.   Artemaa 
Ward,  LL.D. 

1852.  The  Faithful  Man  :  A  Sermon  memorial  of  Thomas  Tarhell, 

Esq. 

1853.  The   Useful  Man  :  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Funeral  of 

Hon.  Charles  Paine  in  Northticld,  Vt. 

1854.  Discourse  delivered  at  the  Funeral  of  Rev.   Alex.  Young, 

D.D.,  Pastor  of  the  New  South  Church,  Boston. 
1859.    Sermon  preached  in  the  First  Independent  Church  in  Balti- 
more, on  the  Sunday  after  the  Death  of  Rev.  Geo.  W. 

Burnap,  D.D. 
The  Phvsician  :  A  Sermon  memorial  of  ^Marshall  S.  Perry, 

M.D. 
1861.    Religion  Conduciv^e  to  Prosperity  in  this  Life  :  A  Sermon 

memorial  of  Hon.  Nathan  Appleton. 
1864.    The  Discipline  of  the  Hour  :  A  Sermon  memorial  of  Mrs. 

S.  L.  Torrey.     (Not  published.) 
Discourse   occasioned  by   the    Death    of   the   Hon.    Josiah 

Quincy. 
Discourse  delivered  in  the  Church  of  the  First  Parish  in 

Dedham  on  the  Sunday  after  the  Death  of  Rev.  .\lvan 

Lamson,  D.D. 
1866.    Address  at  the  Funeral  of  Rev.   Edwar.l    B.    Hall,   D.D., 

Pastor  of  First  Congregational  Society  in  Providence.  R.I. 
1807.    An  Address  at  the    Commemorative    S-rvice  hold    on  the 

Twenty-fifth    Anniversary  of    Dr.   Clianning's  IVatli  in 

Arlington  Street  Church. 
1869.    Death  in  its  Purpose  and  Effect  :  A  Discourse  in  memory  of 

Robert  Waterston.     (Not  published.) 
1871.    Discourse  in  Memory  of  Mr.  Robert  B.  Storer. 

The  Christian  Scholar  :  A  Memorial  of  ^Mr.  (Jcorge  Tickuf.r. 

In  "  Old  and  New,"  May,  1871. 


570  EZRA    STILES   GANNETT. 

Of  /lis    Church  and  Himself. 

1839.  Hymns  and  Exercises  for  the  Federal  Street  Sunday  School: 
arranged  by  E,  S.  G. 

1860.  A  Memorial  of  the  Federal  Street  Meeting-house  :  A  Dis- 
course preached  on  the  last  Sunday  morning  of  its  use 
for  Public  Worship,  iMarch  13,  1850,  by  the  Minister  of 
the  Congregation  ;  and  Addresses  delivered  in  the  after- 
noon of  that  day  by  others  ;  with  an  Appendix. 

1832.    Positive  Faith:  A  Discourse  preached  at  the  Dedication  of 
the  Church  in  Arlington  Street,  Dec.  11,  1881  :  with  an 
Appendix. 
Services  for  Arlington  Street  Church. 

ISGi.    Sermon  preached  at  the  Close  of  the  Fortieth  Year  of  his 
Ministry,  July  3,  18G4. 

1870.    The  Old  and  the  New  :  A  Sermon  preached  Jan.  2,  1870. 

MAGAZINE   ARTICLES 

NOT   INCLUDED   IN   THE    PREVIOUS    LIST. 
(Editorial  Articles,  save  the  five  starred.) 

In  the  "  /Scriptural  Interpreter.^' 

1831.  Vol.  I.      The  Temptation  of  Jesus  Christ. 

The  Brevity  of  the  Gospels. 

1832.  Vol.  II.     The  Excellences  and  Defects  of  the   Old  Testa- 

ment,    (Two  articles.) 
The  Lord's  Prayer. 
The  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 

1833.  Vol.  III.   The  Use  of  the  Bible  in  the  Instruction  of  Cliil- 

dren. 
First  Principles  of  Scriptural  Interpretation  :    A 

Lecture   delivered   before   the    Sunday  School 

Society.  .  (Two  articles.) 
The  Appearance  of  the  Angels  to  the  Shepherds. 

1834.  Vol.  IV.  On  the  Domestic  Reading  of  the  Scriptures. 

Familiar  Letters  on  the  Old  Testament.  (Five 
articles.) 

The  IMosaic  and  the  Christian  Dispensations  Com- 
pared.    (Two  articles.) 

1835.  Vol.  V.     On  Inspiration. 

Besides  many  shorter  pieces,  — aids  in  interpreting  the  Bible. 


APPENDIX. 


In  the  "  Monthly  Miscellamj  of  Rdi(ji<m  and  Leltcrs."' 

1839.  Vol.  I.         *  Aggregate  Meeting  of  Unitarians  in  Loudon. 

1840.  Vol.  II.       Editorial  Notice. 

The  Close  of  the  Year. 
Claims  of  tlie  Bible  on  our  Perusal. 
Vol.  III.      Life  and  Cluiracter  of  the  late  Dr.  Tuckeriuau. 
The  Church  and  the  World. 

1841.  Vol.  IV.     Common  School  Education. 

Death  of  President  Harrison. 
The  Example  of  Christ. 
Vol.  V.       Manchester  College  Lectures. 
Christ  an  Example. 
Thrush's  '  Last  Thoughts  '  on  War. 
Recent  Deaths  in  England. 
The  Paternal  Government  of  God. 

1842.  Vol.  VI.     To  Our  Readers. 

Grounds  of  Religious  Belief. 

1843.  Vol.  VIII.  Where  does  the  New  Year  Find  us? 

English    Sermons    on    Dr.    Channing's   Death. 
(Three  articles.) 
Vol.  IX.     Dogmatism. 

Disruption  of  the  Scottish  Church. 
The  late  Thomas  Thrush  of  England. 
The  Ministry  at  Large. 
The  late  Rev.  Henry  Ware,  Jr. 
Besides  many  short  pieces  in  the  department  of  "  IntelHgence." 


In  the  "  Jlfonthlt/  Beligious  Magazine.^' 

ISM.  Vol.  I.  Personal  and  Social  Reform. 

The  Presidential  Election. 
Spiritual  Kindred. 
,     Prison  Discipline. 

*  Practical  Preaching. 

*  The  Anniversary  Week. 

*  The  Bicentenary  of  the  Englisli  Non- 
Conformists  :  A  Discourse  dehvcrcd  in 
Boston,  Aug.  31,  18(j2. 


1815. 

Vol. 

II. 

1847. 

Vol. 

IV. 

1862. 

Vol. 

XXVIII. 

572 


EZRA   STILES   GANNETT. 


In  the  "  Christian  Examiner.'* 

1825.  Vol.  II.  *  Erroneous  Views  of  Death. 

1844.  Vol.  XXXVI.      Editorial  Notice  by  A.  L.  &  E.  S.  G. 
What  is  Christianity  ? 
Present  Position  of  Unitarianism. 
Vol.  XXXVII.    Present  Position  of  Unitarianism. 
Sketches  of  the  Reformers. 
18-15.  Vol.  XXXVIII.  The  Church. 

Vol.  XXXIX.     Harvard  College  —  Sectarianism. 

1846.  Vol.  XL.  The  Unitarian  Denomination. 
Vol.  XLI.  The  Cause  of  Peace. 

Greenwood's  Miscellaneous  Writings. 

1847.  Vol.  XLIII.  Religious  Aspect  of  the  Time. 

1848.  Vol.  XLIV.  The  Mexican  War. 

Whitwell's  Translation  of  Romans. 

1849.  Vol.  XL VI.  Kentish's  Notes  on  Scripture. 

The  Unitarian  Meetings. 
Besides  short  pieces  in  the  department  of  "  IntelUgence." 


Cambridge  :  Press  of  John  Wilson  &  Son. 


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